#before I get to much energy during a break and start having thoughts again

[narcjsistx]

𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐂𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 | sae, shidou, rin (part two)

— sae itoshi

✶ Sae seems like someone who actually likes to wear bracelets, rings or necklaces, but can't wear them often due to the matchs he plays, where he would risk breaking them. going back to the basic concept, his gifts would probably be matching jewelry, especially rings... so, in case you were someone who wears them and rarely takes them off, he would try to do the same thing. during matches he would hang the ring on a string that he would put in his pocket or around his neck, kissing it before starting the match or squeezing it after scoring a goal

✶ I don't know exactly why, but beyond the canonical fetish for the ass, I see him as someone who would aim to have a partner with well groomed hands, like nails with polish, smooth and without calluses. he's not a big fan of PDA, the only thing he would do is hold your hand and occasionally leave a prying kiss on the back. in private he is certainly more open, and one thing he loves is massaging his partner's hand; it's a gesture he now makes almost unconsciously

✶ Sae didn't have instagram until he met you, you practically forced him to create an account! he resisted his manager telling him to do the same for a long time, but for you it was only enough once. he just put a profile photo, you had to do it for him the bio and some highlights, about past or future matches. a few days later you opened instagram and noticed that his account had a highlights that you hadn't created, entitled "her": you opened it and there were some photos of you, the ones that Sae considered most important (even if he loves them all). needless to say, your heart was about to explode

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he may have thought about it a bit, but after joining ReAl he didn't have the time to think about it again. he wouldn't mind having a family sooner or later, but probably after winning the U-20 world cup. two children would be fine, possibly a boy and a girl. he just knows that in some way his children would remind him of him and Rin as lil kids

✶ jealosy level: 5/10

✶ flirtiness level: 7/10 (let's specify, ABSOLUTELY NOT in public, but in private maybe he would indulge in some jokes)

✶ pet names: "amor" / "y/n" / "pretty"

—————————————

— ryusei shidou

✶ even if it doesn't seem like it, Shidou is relatively a normal person as a boyfriend... is there a concept of personal space? not that, but otherwise it's normal. the only "flaw" he may have is that he must CONSTANTLY have his hand touching you when you're together, whether it's a hand on your thigh or an arm around your shoulders: he simply needs to feel you. PDA is no big deal for him: he want to kiss you in front of everyone? he will do it, whatever the cost. if you say he can kiss you after winning a game and it's live nationally, why can't he do it in front of his group of homies?

✶ Shidou seems like someone actually very deep, or at least that seems to be described in some parts of his character sheet. Late night chats are literally the level of mental intimacy he hopes to achieve with his partner... he's someone who doesn't sleep much, so he has a lot of energy and hardly gets tired even after hours of talking. You and him tightly hugging on his bed, lights off and just everything that goes through your head... doesn't everything seem perfect?

✶ you know very well that every time he has a match he makes comments that, let's say, put him in a "bad light", or in any case make him seem less interested in you. before being with you he didn't mind saying things like that on the field, and more or less the same thing has remained since you got together as a couple... BUT THERE IS A BUT! every time, once the game is over and above all won, he makes sure to run to you before even celebrating with his teammates: whether you are in the VIP area or not, he will come to you to kiss you with all the passion he has. let's say he uses his method to reconfirm to the people that he is happily taken

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ GET MARRIED AND HAVE MANY CHILDREN AS POSSIBLE? YEAAAAH. no okay maybe not like that, but on the issue of children he doesn't lie... certainly with the career as a striker he has, he has no problems with money, and therefore with maintaining kids. let's say that for marriage it's different... he doesn't find any sense in it, in reality, he only sees it as something superficial: if he loves you and you know it, why have such a ceremony?. so let's say it's 50/50: he would do it if you asked him but at the same time he wouldn't mind not being married

✶ jealosy level: 1/10 (he trusts you too much to even think about it)

✶ flirtiness level: 10/10

✶ pet names: "doll" / "darling" / "love"

—————————————

— rin itoshi

✶ Rin hides under his serious and calculating gaze a boy who simply needs to vent after everything that happened with his older brother. Before being together as a couple he would never have expected to be able to cry in front of someone, but with you it was all quite natural: it took months and a lot of patience to show him that you really cared about him and that you wanted him to feel comfortable with you, but in the end he let himself go and was finally able to tell someone what not even he himself could explain. he'll never admit it but he believes that was the moment he realized how important you really were to him, and how much he simply wanted someone who could understand him

✶ He has a sort of fetish for seeing you in his clothes: it doesn't matter if the clothes are tight, big or the right size, just seeing you in that black sweatshirt of his or in his PxG uniform is enough to send him into crisis. he can't even explain to you why he likes it so much, but the fact that you're wearing something that smells like him is definitely a valid reason. you once surprised him by showing up at one of his matches wearing a jacket with "rin" written on the back, and we can say that he appreciated it to the point of having to prove it to you in some way: that time the match ended 9-0, goal all marked by him

✶ He may be one of the best if not the best, but after finishing the practice he simply needs to rest with you next to him, even more so if the coach was more unpleasant than usual or he simply did a lot of things wrong due to distraction (which is impossible considering it's Rin). Whether on the couch after cleaning himself or in the shower, while you rub shampoo into his hair it doesn't matter, he just needs to feel your presence

what would he post on socials ↓

✶ as a child he often saw other children playing at being married, but he was never actually interested, also because on the one hand it disgusted him to think of having to be tied to a person forever and kiss them on the mouth. as he's grown up he's changed his opinion, he's definitely the marriageable type and he'd actually like to get married as soon as possible: what's the point in leaving you legally free if you've stolen his heart?. let's say that he has a fairly positive opinion about children, he just knows that they arrive after a certain amount of time after marriage: he would like to have two girls... growing up as one of two brothers, both boys, he knows how boys are more problematic than girls

✶ jealosy level: 6/10

✶ flirtiness level: 3/10

✶ pet names: "y/n" / "love"

[mysumeow]

︵ ☆ Malleus NSFW Alphabet (S-Z) Pt. 3

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: AFAB body reader. Brief cervix stuff mention. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: i know cervix stuff irl is not that pleasurable to most, but in smut, i like it :D | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST | PART 1 | PART 2

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

You could try outlasting him if you’d like to, although it’s more likely that you’ll tire out before he does.

He’ll last as long as you want it to last; energy’s not a limitation. If you’re in the mood for more than one round, he’s up for it.

That’s under normal circumstances. When he enters his rut, however, it’s another story. Just once isn’t enough. If you’re giving him a hand (or more than that), be prepared for a long night. For several days.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

In terms of technology, Malleus is not what you would think of as careful, considering how often he breaks his phone and Tamagotchi. If he owned a toy, it would meet the same fate as those.

Besides, he doesn’t deem toys necessary. His hand gets the job done.

This reasoning goes in hand regarding the use of a toy on you: unnecessary. Why would he use that when his fingers, his mouth, and his dick can provide you with pleasure. His cock is big enough to give you the stretch you crave, the warmth you seek that a measly toy won’t provide.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Most of the time, he’s pleasing. Giving you what you need.

When he’s not, he’s cruel. You aren’t sure whether he uses that excuse of wanting to wallow in you to prolong your suffering, or he means it. When you need him to go faster, to ravage you… Instead, his pace is unhurried, gripping your hips with decided strength to keep you in place, not letting you buck your hips to reach that orgasm that’s just there but not quite…

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

For someone that’s not experienced, he controls his volume well. Even when he speaks, his voice is collected. During sex, he’s not loud, but each groan is like a reward. They’re so pleasant to listen to. His words might stutter a bit when he’s exerting himself, but he keeps it low.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes he gets an urge to bind your hands. For you to grant your pleasure to his mercy. To see how far he can push before you start begging him to let you orgasm. Or, on the contrary, if you're bratty, he wants to see for how long you can keep it up.

If he can be a menace when in bed under normal conditions...if you willingly let him tie your hands to the bed post, be prepared for a long night.

X = X-ray

Even if you’re dripping wet, it can be a bit of a challenge to take it all. It stretches you in a way unlike anything else you’ve tried before, and you could soon find yourself unsatisfied if you try to find that same feeling with a toy or your hand. Even by fae standards, he’s above average in size. Once you get used to his length, you’ll feel the tip stimulate your cervix.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Since his feelings for you grew to the point of no return, he finds himself thinking about you a lot more often. Those thoughts arise with more mild intentions, such as taking a stroll across campus with you to take in the true majesty of gargoyles, see how you take care of his pet Tamagotchi…the ideas spiral into something less idle and more salacious. He itches to have you underneath him again, to clutch your legs open while he seizes everything you have to offer, to worship you with kisses—suddenly, there’s a strain under his pants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Malleus catches his breath faster than you do, and if he notices you’re drowsy, he’ll hold you and wait for you to fall asleep first. He’s still got energy left, so he stays awake a little longer than you do. He can’t fight back against somnolence when you look that placid in dreams, and after a moment, he falls asleep too.

[wosospacegirl]

fever - kika nazareth

Summary: Kika is sick, and Y/n is falling in love

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

a/n: This is a schedule post. I had this fic lying around, but I forgot in what doc it was 💀💀💀

..

It started at training.

Kika had shown up looking ridiculously good–her hair in a messy ponytail, flushed cheeks, sleeves pushed up, all effortless and pretty and… hot. Like, really hot.

Y/n had genuinely stopped in the middle of a rondo to stare. Pina even smacked the back of her head when she lost possession of the ball to the other team… but Y/n couldn’t help it. It had been four whole days since she’d last seen Kika.

Kika had gone on a trip back to Portugal to see her family. She got some time off and decided to enjoy it back in her homeland.

Unfortunately, Kika didn’t think about how much it would affect Y/n… poor girl was getting sadder and sadder each day.

“She looks so pretty,” Y/n whispered to Alexia during their water break, eyes fixed across the pitch as Kika talked with the manager.

“Um… no,” Alexia muttered back. “She looks like she’s about to pass out.”

Y/n blinked. “What?”

But before Y/n could make sense of that, Kika began coughing–a lot. Romeu even put a hand on her back, either for comfort or to actually help.

And then came the sneezes. Y/n counted seven, while Alexia counted eight.

When Kika was done, the tips of her ears were red and her forehead was shiny with sweat, as if coughing and sneezing had taken a toll on her body.

“Flu season,” Alexia said. “She’s probably burning up.”

Y/n, still in complete denial, shook her head. “Nah. She just has... allergies.”

“She just sneezed again,” Alexia said, deadpan, pointing to Kika, who’d just been handed a paper towel to clean her nose.

“I think it was more like a… new form of communication she’s trying.”

“Her neck is red.”

“She’s just—radiating energy.”

“Nena,” Alexia said, now more impatient. “She’s not radiating energy. She’s radiating a fever.”

Y/n gave one last look at Kika, and yeah… she looked bad. The assistant managers had just walked her off the pitch into the hallway that led to the locker room. Guess no training for Kikinha today.

The reason Y/n absolutely didn’t want to believe Kika was sick?

They were supposed to have a date today.

Not a romantic one–just… casual.

A friends-with-benefits-who-are-hungry-and-go-out-to-an-Italian-place kind of date.

But now that Kika seemed to have lost one of her lungs, it looked like those plans were about to change.

Y/n ended up volunteering–casually, definitely not suspiciously–to check in on Kika for the rest of the team.

Kika didn’t even argue when Y/n knocked on the door and let herself into the locker room.

She was slumped on the bench, hoodie pulled over her training kit, legs curled up under her like a sleepy cat.

Her nose was pink. Her eyes looked glassy. Her hair was still in that hot, messy ponytail.

“Hi,” Y/n said, trying to sound casual. Normal. Not worried. Not in love.

Kika sniffled. “Hi.” Her voice was so raspy it made Y/n wince.

“You dying?”

“No, I’m fine,” Kika mumbled, swaying a little as she stood in front of her locker. 

“You’re not,” Y/n said, one hand hovering behind her back in case she stumbled again. “And you’re, like, weirdly warm. I thought it was because you looked… good. But I think you’re just ill.”

Kika gave her a sleepy smile. “You thought I looked good?”

Y/n, tragically, had no comeback. Not a single sarcastic one. “That’s not the point.”

“It’s a little bit the point,” Kika teased, before groaning and pressing a hand to her head.

“You’ve been gone for four days,” Y/n mumbled, brushing a hand over Kika’s back. “I was gonna take you out tonight.”

“Ugh,” Kika groaned. “The pasta.”

“I know. I had my outfit picked and everything.”

Kika sniffled again, tugging Y/n’s sleeve and curling into her more. “I can still go.”

“You can’t even stand.”

“Carry me?”

“No.”

“Piggyback?”

“No.”

“Stretcher?”

Y/n laughed soflty. “You’re delirious.”

Kika turned her face into Y/n’s shoulder. “I’m touch-starved and flu-ridden.”

“I’m taking you home” Y/n finally said, helping her sit up. “No training. No pasta. Just meds, soup, and me bossing you around.”

“Hot,” Kika whispered.

“You are hot,” Y/n mumbled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Let’s make a quick stop at the infirmary.”

The nurse confirmed it–Kika had a fever of 38.4°C and was sent home with strict instructions to rest.

Y/n, ever the idiot-in-love, offered to stay with her. You know… in case she fell or needed something.

..

That night, Kika was curled up on the sofa with a blanket over her legs, hair messy and cheeks pink, sniffling into a tissue and blinking up at Y/n like she’d never been more adorable.

“Still think I’m hot?” she croaked, voice all raspy.

Y/n handed her water with pink ears. “Honestly? You’re sweating and your nose is red and I think I’m even more into you.”

Kika smiled so softly it made Y/n’s chest ache. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Y/n said. “And you’re sick.”

Kika was not usually clingy.  At least, not like this.

Normally, she was composed and soft-spoken–the kind of affectionate that snuck up on you: gentle touches, shy smiles, casual thigh presses on the bench.

But whatever virus had taken over her body had apparently also overridden her emotional regulation.

Because now she was sprawled across Y/n’s lap like a cat, sniffly and half-asleep, one arm wrapped stubbornly around her waist.

“I don’t wanna move,” she mumbled, nuzzling into Y/n’s hoodie like it was a pillow. “You’re comfy.”

Y/n blinked at the wall, hands hovering awkwardly above her. “Okay but… I need to pee.”

“No,” Kika said firmly, burrowing closer. “Stay.”

“This isn’t fair,” Y/n muttered. “You’re burning up, you’re sweaty, and you still smell good. How is that even possible?”

Kika just made a sleepy little noise and tightened her grip.

Y/n had never taken care of a sick person before. She was the one who usually got looked after–stubborn and grumpy when ill, but quietly appreciating the attention.

This?

This clingy, feverish Kika who wanted nothing but popcorn–for some unknown reason–cuddles, and her presence at all times? She didn’t know what to do with it.

“Should I, like… make soup?” Y/n asked out loud.

Kika whined. “No, I don’t like soup.”

“I think sick people need soup, though.”

“Don’t go.”

“I have to get up and make something for you to eat, bebé–like real food.”

“No.”

Kika pulled the blanket up over both of them and held her tighter. “Soup later. You now.”

Y/n’s heart physically ached. “You’re so clingy,” she whispered, brushing sweaty hair off Kika’s forehead. “I didn’t know you got like this when you get sick.”

She ended up texting Alexia, after 30 minutes of staying perfectly still while Kika clung to her even more.

Y/n: what do i do when she’s sick and clingy and adorable and i think i might die

Alexia: You hold her and kiss her dumb forehead and accept your fate.

Y/n: I dont think i ever got to this part before

Alexia: welcome to being in love

Y/n stared at the screen, then at the girl drooling slightly on her hoodie. 

Yeah. She was doomed.

..

Hope you guys liked it!! <3

[himbo-kuto]

idol!reader x pilot!caleb 

plot: your performing a song with some suggestive lyrics to hundreds and thousands of people 👀

caleb | rafayel | zayne | sylus | xavier 

“linkon stadium!” 

the sudden eruption of cheers from thousands of people in front of you made your heart warm. you had just finished your costume change for your secret stage that you switched up at every location and you were giddy with anticipation. it was a frilly green two piece that didn’t leave much room for imagination. 

caleb had asked you a billion times on what the song was since you told him all the others but you kept it under lock and key knowing that you were essentially dedicating this stage to him. 

“for the last time, no caleb! i’m not telling you!” you scolded as you propped your phone up on the bathroom mirror during your routine video call. you finished off your skin care routine with a lip mask, cleaning up the corners with your finger before looking right at the camera.   “but just know, that stage is dedicated to you.” he groaned in response, covering his now blushing cheeks with his hand.  “you’re going to be the death of me, pipsqueak.”

you knew it was rough on him as you were traveling the world and even though he was a pilot, you two rarely found yourselves in the same place but today you knew that caleb was coming and you couldn’t wait to be in his arms once again. 

you looked out to the audience to the section that your management had blocked off for your friends and family and if your eyes were correct, you could see him right in the middle wearing some light up headband with your name on it. 

“i feel blessed to be able to finish out my tour in my home town with my friends, family and partner out here in the audience tonight” another wave of cheers came through from your fans, and maybe you were crazy, but you thought you heard caleb’s scream as clear as day. you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips as you began to get into places for the beginning of the song.

“you have all have given me so much of your time and energy– i want to make sure we keep it up until the very end, what do you say?” you held your hand up to ear, and the microphone out to the audience.

“if you know the words to this song, i want you to sing them as loud as you can with me alright?” the lights dimmed, the crowd once again screamed at the top of their lungs in anticipation before the first few notes from sabrina carpenter’s nonsense started playing over the speakers. you read the conspiracies on what your fans thought your stage was going to be. you were proud in knowing that none of them guessed this song, leaving everyone in shock. especially the person whose reaction you anticipated the most. you secretly texted tara before heading on stage, asking her to record caleb’s reaction and she quickly obliged.

only a few lines into the first verse, you and your dancers could feel the energy of the audience as the lyrics could be heard loud and clear. you wanted to give them a good send off before you took a long break to recuperate and you were glad they were vibing along with you. 

I'm talkin' all around clock I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks I'm talkin' opposite of soft I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts

on caleb’s end he was thankful to whatever god above that the venue was dimly lit because his whole neck and face were bright red. there you were, looking right at the camera that plastered your face on the big screens with your hair perfectly done and your makeup all sparkly. you looked immaculate and he was blown away. sure, he’s seen you perform– heck he’s watched every single one of your performances even the more suggestive ones. but he knew you chose this song with those lyrics intentionally and the fact that he could only stand there and watch from afar is what killed him. he didn’t even notice tara laughing out loud as she captured his reaction to the chorus, flashing back and forth from the big screens with your face to your tomato of a boyfriend.

he was rendered speechless and all he could do was absent mindedly clap along to the song, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. a sudden burst of screams broke caleb out of his trance. he watched as you reached out to a fan that was close to the stage and put on a pilot’s hat. you couldn’t even contain yourself at how perfect the timing was and laughed as you continued to sing the lyrics.

that man was done for. he loved seeing you in his uniform, whether it was his hat or jacket he would go weak at the knees, wanting to take as many pictures as possible (he was definitely going on to social media later and download all your concert pics) he couldn’t help but laugh as well seeing how much fun you were having up there. yeah it was hard being away from you for extended periods of time, but seeing you perform was always worth it. he was planning on giving you an ear full but maybe now there wasn’t going to be much talking. you were nearing the end of the song where different adlibs could be sung depending on the situation.

This song catchier than chickenpox is I bet your house is where my other sock is

you held the brim of your hat, with a flirty look on your face as you tried to hold your composure as you sang your practiced adlibs. 

He’s my pilot, i’ll meet him in the cockpit Mile High Club, can you keep a secret?

you gave a salute as your ending fairy, giving a knowing laugh as your boyfriend has most likely passed out on the floor. 

“thank you linkon, i’ll keep this night in my heart forever!” 

—

bonus:

“babe that’s literally the 20th time you’ve watched that clip– i’m right here” he couldn’t hear you as he kept replaying a video a fan took of the ending adlibs. he had surely given you a stern “talking to” when you were able to make it back to your house. he laid there freshly showered after doing all the things that were listed out in that song– you might add. smiling like an idiot at his phone as you made your way back into his embrace. you watched as he continued to scroll through more videos from your concert.

he put his phone down as he held you closer. you buried your face into his neck, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply. you missed him dearly and it was good to be back. 

“we haven’t even had sex in my plane– are you trying to tell me something?” your eyes shot open as you landed a square slap right on his chest. 

“CALEB–” he laughed out loud as he held his hands up in defense. 

“you’re the one who said it pipsqueak, not me!” you bit his arm before making your way back into his neck. 

“would you rather have me say ‘that autopilot got me boun–’” the rest of your sentence was muffled as he covered your mouth. 

“shhh…. the world doesn’t need to know that much.”

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (2)

Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,659

Part: 2 of ??

Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Previous

Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.

"Do you need this?" 

She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.

Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 

"Why? You like grapes." 

"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."

Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 

He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.

"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 

"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 

"You see how that was childish?" 

"Whatever." 

Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.

A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 

"Get that one." 

His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 

"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 

She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 

Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 

After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 

Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 

Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 

"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 

"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 

"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 

Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 

Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.

Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.

"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 

"Same time next week." 

He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 

Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 

"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 

"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 

"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."

His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 

It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 

He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 

Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 

"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 

Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 

"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 

"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 

"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 

"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."

"Amen."

An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.

Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.

"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 

Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."

"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 

Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 

"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 

Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 

Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 

Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 

"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 

Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.

Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 

"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."

"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 

"That'd be grand." 

"I bet it would."

Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 

Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 

"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 

"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 

"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 

"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 

--------

The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 

An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 

He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.

The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 

Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 

"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 

No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 

"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 

The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 

The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 

Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 

Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 

Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 

"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 

Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.

It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 

"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 

Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 

"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."

"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.

"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 

"Contract?" 

"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."

Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 

"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 

"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 

"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 

She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 

Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.

"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 

Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 

She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 

"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 

"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 

"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."

"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 

Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.

"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 

"They talk?" 

"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 

Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 

"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 

"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 

June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 

Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 

Focus on today.

The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 

They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 

Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 

"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 

"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 

He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 

The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 

"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 

"Of what?" 

"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"

He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."

You know I'm ready

To love you

Forever 

Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 

"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."

Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 

As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 

When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 

But, for tonight at least, this was enough.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse

[channieschaoscorner]

New Beginnings- Part Four - Stray Kids x female!9th member

Pairing: Chan x 9th Member

Summary: The pressure from your duet is now starting to take its toll on you and Chan. You’re both trying your best to keep it together but you don’t realise how the other is drowning too.

Genre: Angst, slow burn (I promise this will eventually have a happy ending guys, we’re all in this together)

A/N: Part four guys!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this so far or any theories if you have them :) thank you all so much for your support and comments and re logs, it really means so much to me!!!! I hope you enjoy <3

Part Three

Masterlist

────୨ৎ────

You knew the second you stepped into the practice room that today was going to be hard.

It wasn’t the exhaustion tugging at your limbs or the dull ache in the back of your leg from stretching too quickly. It was the silence that fell over the room the second Chan looked at you.

Not that he said anything. He didn’t have to.

His eyes flicked down, just briefly, before darting away. That’s when you realized—

You were wearing his hoodie.

The one from years ago. Oversized, soft from too many washes, a little stretched at the sleeves from him tugging on them during late-night studio sessions. You hadn’t meant to grab it this morning. It had just been hung on the back of your door, and your body had moved on autopilot.

Now it felt like a spotlight. Hot and heavy on your back.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the twist in your chest, and made your way to the center of the room. The others were already stretching, laughing about something Hyunjin had said. The room was buzzing with energy, but it all felt a little too loud, a little too far away.

You felt like glass, like one wrong word might shatter you.

“Let’s run it from the top,” you said, forcing your voice to stay strong, steady. “Focus on formations today, we’re still rushing transitions, I want everyone to finish each move before moving onto the next, okay?”

They nodded, obedient, unaware of the current threatening to pull you under.

You clapped to count them in, turned to the mirror, and started the choreography. The music pulsed through the speakers, grounding you in rhythm. This was familiar. Safe.

But every time you turned, every time your gaze skimmed the room, you felt him there. Just behind you. Not too close. Not too far. Watching.

And you could feel the weight of it, just heavy enough to throw you.

You were halfway through the second verse when it happened. Just a small misstep, barely noticeable—but Chan noticed.

Your foot slipped out of sync, and your arms lost their sharpness. Your balance faltered for a beat, not enough to draw attention, but enough to break your flow. Enough to remind you that you weren’t okay.

You glanced in the mirror.

Chan’s eyes were on you. Not cold. Not angry. Just concerned. Guarded.

And somehow that made it worse.

You pushed through. Forced yourself to keep going. To pretend like the air wasn’t thick and tense, like the silence between you hadn’t grown a thousand walls tall. You had a job to do. You had to set an example.

You weren’t allowed to fall apart.

But your chest was tight. Your head spun. The last few days had been too much.

The kiss. The fight. The guilt that clung to every glance you shared.

Now here you were, in his hoodie, standing in front of everyone, pretending you didn’t want to scream.

When the music cut, you bent over to catch your breath. Sweat dripped from your temple, your pulse thudding too fast.

Chan didn’t say anything. But you could feel him moving toward you.

“Grab some water and we’re going again.” you said quickly, wiping your face with your sleeve before he could get too close, before you broke.

The others nodded, scattering across the room for their bottles, for a moment to breathe.

You didn’t move. Just stood there, still catching your breath, arms crossed over your chest as if you could hold yourself together with sheer will.

You could feel Chan watching.

But neither of you said a word.

Because you both knew that if either of you did, something would crack.

And you weren’t ready to bleed so you did what you did best, you stayed silent.

────୨ৎ────

The hours raced by thankfully, it wasn't long before you were close to the end of this practice. Your eyes practically burning through the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds until you could escape.

There was one last thing to do and you were determined to get it right. Determined to finish knowing that you could still show up for the others even when it felt like you were falling apart.

You’d done the flip a hundred times before.

Launched off the solid base of Changbin’s hands, flipped through the air with the confidence of muscle memory, and landed with precision like always.

But not this time.

Not after the day you were having. Not after the hours of silence and cold glances and the weight of Chan’s avoidance pressing down on your shoulders like another member in the formation.

You were already exhausted, but the group needed to finish this run-through and you needed to feel like you could actually do your job. You needed to pull yourself together and finish on a good note.

“Alright, reset.” Chan called out, voice firm and distant.

You tried not to flinch at the way he didn’t look at you when he said it.

The music started. You took your place. Breathed. Told yourself this was just muscle memory. You’d already done this a dozen times, what was once more?

So you ran and you jumped.

Everything was normal until that one second as you left the ground. Your eyes found his across the room, just for a second.

And your stomach dropped.

It wasn’t a long look. It was so short that it could barely even count as eye contact.

But it was enough.

Just enough of him to unravel your concentration, to make the twist come too fast, your knees not tuck in tight enough, your focus crack like glass under a heel.

You knew you wouldn't make it.

You braced yourself for the impact that was coming.

And then…

You hit the ground hard.

A sharp smack of skin against the floor, air knocked out of your lungs, a wince caught in your throat before you could hold it back.

“Shit!” someone yelped—Felix maybe—but all you could hear was Chan’s voice before anyone else even moved.

“Don’t move—don’t move.”

The room stopped.

Hands reached out but Chan was already there, crouching beside you, his hand hovering inches from your arm, not touching but ready.

“Where does it hurt?” he asked, voice low, trembling with something close to panic. “Tell me where it hurts.”

“I’m fine.” You breathed, trying to sit up.

“You fell hard.” he said sharply. “Don’t get up yet.”

You blinked, taken aback by the force of it. Not the volume, but the fear underneath.

“I just landed wrong.” you whispered, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve done worse.”

“Not when I was watching.” he muttered before he could stop himself.

You both froze.

He knew it was too much. That he was showing too much. So he pulled back, physically and emotionally, as if catching himself right before falling off a ledge.

“Sorry,” he added quickly, eyes flicking away. “Just management would kill us if anyone got benched before the comeback.”

But that wasn’t why.

And everyone in the room knew it.

You could see the confusion on the other members’ faces.

Why was Chan reacting like this? Why was he pacing behind you now, fists clenched, jaw locked, like he was about to explode?

You rolled onto your hands and knees, took a deep breath, ignoring the protesting from your ribs and pushed up.You switched weight between your feet, wincing at the pain that shot through your right side. Your ankle rolled uncomfortably when you took a step forward but as far as you could tell, nothing was broken.

“I’m okay.” you said again, gently, for him this time.

Chan gave a stiff nod. “We’re done for today.” he announced, voice curt. “Let’s cool down and head out.”

No one argued.

As the group scattered, Hyunjin lingered beside you, picking up your bag along with his own, offering his arm to help you walk out but it didn't register with you, not properly. Your eyes were burning into Chan’s bsvk byt he didn’t even glance your way again. He picked up his water bottle, slung his towel around his neck, and walked toward the door.

But just before he left, he hesitated.

You caught it. That half-second pause. That internal war.

He didn’t turn around.

Didn’t speak.

Just left.

And you were left wondering what would’ve happened if you’d called out to him. If you’d asked what he wasn’t saying, what he was so scared of.

Because it wasn’t the injury.

It was you.

And it was him.

And everything neither of you could afford to admit.

────୨ৎ────

You hit the floor so hard.

And Chan couldn’t breathe.

It had all happened so fast. Just a missed step, the wrong angle, but the second you slammed into the floor and your body crumpled, the air had been ripped from his lungs.

He didn’t remember how he got out of the practice room.

The fluorescent lights blurred into the black of the hallway, into the cold sting of night air outside. He just kept walking, like if he stopped moving, the panic would catch up to him and take him down for good.

You said you were okay.

You smiled, brushed it off like it didn’t matter. But it did.

It mattered more than anything.

Because seeing you fall, seeing you in pain, was enough to undo him entirely.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He’d clenched them into fists the moment you reassured everyone you’d be fine. But all he could hear was the sound of you hitting the floor, the gasp of pain that you couldn’t stop escaping, the way the room had gone silent, how everyone looked at him like he should’ve done something.

Like he should’ve known.

Back at the dorms, he didn’t go looking for you. He wanted to. Desperately. He stared at your door as he passed it in the hallway, stood there for a long moment with his fist halfway raised.

But he couldn’t do it.

Because if you looked at him with even an ounce of fear or disappointment, he wasn’t sure what it would do to him.

So he walked away.

He went to his room, shut the door, and sat on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

This duet. This stupid duet.

It was pulling everything to the surface, everything he’d worked so hard to bury.

The way you looked at him now. The way your voice sounded when you laughed too hard. The memory of how it felt when your hand brushed his. That night in the practice room years ago—the kiss neither of you talked about. He couldn’t stop remembering it. Couldn’t stop feeling it.

And that scared him more than anything.

Because you meant everything to him.

And that meant he couldn’t feel this way about you. Not the way his heart begged him to. Not in a way that could cost him you.

He lay back on his bed, eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling until sleep finally dragged him under.

And in his dream—

You were his.

Not in a grand, dramatic way. Just there. Sitting beside him on the floor of the practice room, feet crossed under your legs, your head resting against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He kissed your forehead.

You closed your eyes and smiled softly at the feeling.

It felt right.

It felt like home.

He woke up with your name on his tongue and a hollow ache in his chest.

This couldn’t happen.

He couldn’t feel like this. Not about you.

Because if he did—and if he lost you because of it—

He didn’t think he’d ever recover.

────୨ৎ────

The dorm was quiet.

It was late, too late. The kind of late that made the walls feel thinner, like everything in the world had gone to sleep except him. Chan sat alone on the couch, hood pulled low, phone untouched beside him. He hadn’t even bothered with music. It was too much. That dream had shaken him, scared him out of his own bed to the point that he was afraid if he went back to it that he would dream of you again.

And he couldn’t do that.

So instead he told himself that he was only staying awake in case you needed something. You were injured and he was just looking out for you. That’s what a good leader would do.

You were still in your room, wide awake.

He knew you were. He’d heard your door close softly when the others trickled back from the studio hours ago. Heard Hyunjin’s voice for a while too, gentle and low. That had reassured him for a moment. At least you hadn’t been alone. At least someone had stayed close.

But it didn’t settle him for long.

The image of you falling was stuck behind his eyes, on repeat. That moment where you made eye contact with him, just for a second, and then everything went wrong.

He blamed himself. How could he not?

You’d been distracted because of him.

Everything between you had been spinning tighter for days, and he hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it. He’d been short with you, colder than he ever meant to be. It was the only way he knew how to protect himself. Protect you. If he didn’t feel it — didn’t let himself fall — then maybe you could both stay safe.

But then you wore his hoodie.

You walked into the practice room like it was just another day, sleeves too long, hood too big pulled over your head, and it hit him all over again. Just how tightly you were wound into him, even when neither of you acknowledged it.

Even when it hurt.

Now here he was, sitting in the dark with a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t let up, jaw clenched, trying not to cross the hallway and knock on your door.

But he needed to.

He couldn’t sit here one more minute, not knowing how you were, not knowing if you were still hurting or angry or scared. Not knowing if you blamed him too.

So, heart pounding, he stood.

The hallway stretched long in front of him, silent. Your door was closed, the light beneath it soft and steady. He hesitated there for a moment, fist raised halfway — and lowered it again.

“Coward.” his mind spat. “You’re such a coward.”

But it wasn’t cowardice.

It was fear. Of saying the wrong thing. Of hurting you more. Of unraveling whatever fragile thing still existed between you.

Still, he knocked.

Softly.

Once.

He heard you move, the rustle of the pile of blankets you kept on your bed and then your voice, muffled. “Yeah?”

He almost turned back. Almost gave in to the doubt, the instinct to run. But when you opened the door, standing there in fresh clothes, hair slightly damp from your shower earlier and eyes still red-rimmed with exhaustion, he froze.

You looked at him surprised, unsure but said nothing.

Chan cleared his throat, voice low. “I just… I needed to see if you were okay.”

Your brows pulled in, softening just a little. “I’m fine.” you said, even though your voice betrayed it.

“You’re not.” His throat tightened. “That flip–it wasn’t supposed to go wrong. You’ve done it a hundred times and I— I knew you weren’t ready today. I should’ve—”

“Chan.” you interrupted gently, but he kept going.

“I should’ve stopped you. Or said something. I saw it in your eyes. You looked at me, and I— I froze. I’m the one who—” He dragged a hand through his hair, frustrated, angry, scared. “I wasn’t thinking. Not about the team. Not about you. I— I messed this up.”

There was a pause.

Then you stepped forward.

You reached for his hand carefully, slowly, like you would with a frightened animal, and laced your fingers with his.

His breath caught.

“I’m okay.” you said again, this time softer, like you wanted him to believe it. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I—”

You didn’t let him finish.

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his.

It was gentle. Warm. Reassuring. Nothing like before.

It said all the things you couldn’t.

That you didn’t blame him. That you were still here. That you still wanted to be here.

His hand rose, hovering like he wasn’t sure what to do, before resting lightly against your waist. Too hesitant, too protective, too afraid of making it worse.

When you pulled back, your forehead lingered against his, breath shared in the quiet.

“I’m okay.” you whispered one last time.

And Chan let himself believe you.

He didn’t kiss you again.

He didn’t pull you closer.

He let you go, fingers slipping from yours as you stepped back inside and closed the door behind you.

And he stood there, alone in the hall, heart still aching, knowing this would break him — this feeling he kept trying to bury — but to feel like this silently, from a distance, still felt safer than admitting it and losing you completely.

────୨ৎ────

The next morning, you arrived at the practice room a little later than usual.

No one said anything even though you could feel their eyes on you, flicking briefly to your ankle as you walked with a slight limp, the sleeve of Chan’s old hoodie pulled long over your hands. You hadn’t meant to put it on again, but like before your body moved without thinking. It was soft, warm, familiar. It smelled like safety. Like him. So once you realised, you didn’t want to take it off, you needed the extra comfort today so you let yourself indulge in it.

Which, now, was its own kind of problem.

The sweet kiss from the night before lingered in your memory like a ghost. Gentle, comforting. Too much and not enough all at once. But it hadn’t fixed anything. It hadn’t changed the wall still between you. If anything, it made it harder to look at him without remembering what it felt like to have his lips on yours, trembling with guilt and worry.

When you stepped into the room, the others greeted you with a quiet kind of warmth — gentle smiles, softened edges — and you were grateful they didn’t push, didn’t ask questions. They just moved out of the way, making space for you to sit near the mirrors with your notebook, ready to instruct without pushing your ankle.

You sat down, slowly, trying to hide the wince in your movements.

Across the room, Chan was already there. He hadn’t greeted you, hadn’t looked your way. But you noticed the way he stood slightly apart from the others, hands tucked into his pockets. And in his hand — almost hidden, barely visible from where you were sitting — was your scrunchie.

Your scrunchie.

The one that he’d stole years ago during survival show filming. The one you’d teased him about, half-joking that he’d stolen it because he missed you. You’d never seen it again.

Until now.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t show it off. Just held it quietly, turning it between his fingers once before slipping it into the pocket of his hoodie.

You looked away quickly, heart clenching.

Minho clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s warm up before we run the chorus section again.”

The boys moved easily, a little more subdued than usual, but still focused. You began calling out instructions from where you sat, voice steady even though your chest felt tight. You kept things light, cracked a joke when Seungmin slipped on a spin, praised Jeongin for hitting his marks perfectly.

You avoided looking at Chan.

But he kept glancing your way.

You felt it each and every time, like gravity tugging at your skin. His gaze felt heavy on your skin. Not angry or cold. Never that. Just unreadable, always unreadable in moments like this. Like he was waiting for you, for something you weren’t ready to give yet.

You kept giving feedback, biting back the exhaustion creeping into your limbs. The bruises on your ribs and ankle were making everything harder, but you wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t show weakness. You had to hold everything together. You couldn’t stop just because you were having a bad day. You had to push through even when you felt like you were breaking apart.

Felix brought you a water bottle at one point, kneeling beside you with a soft smile. “You sure you don’t wanna rest properly? You can go back home, we’ll be okay.”

“I’m fine.” you murmured. “Promise.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. Just nodded, patting your shoulder before returning to the group.

Chan hadn’t said a word.

But when the music stopped after a particularly intense run-through, and the boys were catching their breath, he glanced your way again. Not just a flicker this time. It was longer. Lingering. And he looked like he wanted to say something this time.

You didn’t let him.

You dropped your eyes to your notebook in your lap and called out the next section.

The tension buzzed beneath the surface like a wire being pulled too tightly from both ends. You knew it would snap eventually. You just didn’t know when.

And despite everything, despite the kiss, the hoodie, the scrunchie in his pocket. Neither of you reached out to break the silence.

Not yet.

────୨ৎ────

The studio was cloaked in silence, the soft hum of your laptop the only sound as you reviewed the day’s rehearsal footage. The boys had long since departed, leaving behind the echoes of laughter and the scent of sweat-soaked determination. You’d dismissed their efforts to bring you home, determined to get your work done. You might not have been able to dance yet but that didn’t mean you couldn’t review their progress and give them feedback.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, Chan’s hoodie enveloping you in its familiar warmth. The fabric, worn and frayed at the cuffs, still carried his scent somehow after all these years. It was your armor, your comfort, a tangible piece of him that you clung to in the quiet moments.

The door creaked open, and you looked up to see Chan entering, his gaze settling on you.

“You’re still here.” he said softly.

You offered a small smile, nodding. “Just reviewing some stuff I filmed today.”

His eyes drifted to the hoodie you wore, and he hesitated before speaking again.

“Why do you still wear that thing?”

You looked down at the sleeves, fingers tracing the frayed edges. “It makes me feel safe,” you admitted. “Like I have a part of you with me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Chan’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, the dim light catching on something around his wrist.

Your breath caught when you saw it — your scrunchie. The one he’d taken years ago, the one he hid in his pocket earlier, now sat looking particularly comfortable and familiar on his wrist. It was faded now, the color dulled, but it was unmistakably yours.

“You kept it.” you whispered, eyes meeting his.

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It reminds me of you.”

The room was thick with tension, the air charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. You both stayed still, hearts laid bare, and still neither of you moved to bridge the gap.

Finally, Chan broke the silence. “I should go.”

You nodded, watching as he turned and walked away, the door closing softly behind him. No progress had been made, no truths confessed, just the lingering ache of what remained unspoken.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment, half-expecting him to walk back through, to say something, anything but he didn’t.

You were alone. Again.

You pulled your knees to your chest, burying your face in the sleeves of his hoodie. It still smelled like him. Still felt like him. Like safety. Like home.

But it wasn’t enough. Not really.

Your heart ached with the weight of what just happened or more painfully, what didn’t happen.

You told him you wore the hoodie to feel close to him. He showed you he’d kept your scrunchie all these years.

It should have meant something. It did mean something.

But neither of you had the courage to say it out loud.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to throw the stupid hoodie across the room just to do something but you didn’t.

You stayed there, sitting on the practice room floor, head tipped back against the mirrors, the laptop forgotten beside you, letting the quiet swallow you whole.

You were terrified of ruining what you had with him.

Terrified that if you reached for more, you’d lose even the pieces you still clung to.

And worse, you knew he was just as scared.

The silence between you wasn’t just silence anymore. It was everything you were both too afraid to say.

Every almost-confession. Every glance held too long. Every time you ached to reach for him but held yourself back.

You wondered if he was feeling the same weight right now, alone in his own room, clutching your scrunchie like it was some lifeline.

You wondered if he regretted walking away.

You wondered if he ever wished he hadn’t.

But you were too scared to find out.

Instead, you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, stood up shakily, and gathered your things.

You told yourself you’d be fine. That you could survive this aching emptiness.

That pretending was easier than risking it all.

You pulled the hoodie tighter around you and stepped out into the hallway, the cold biting at your skin.

One foot in front of the other.

One breath at a time.

Even if it broke your heart a little more each day, you would keep pretending.

Because losing him completely?

That would destroy you

────୨ৎ────

He didn’t get far.

Only a few steps down the hallway before he stopped, his hand braced against the cool wall like he needed it to hold him up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard like he’d just sprinted miles.

But he hadn’t gone anywhere.

He couldn’t go anywhere, not really. Not from this. There was no escape from this.

Your words echoed in his mind:

“It makes me feel safe…like I have a part of you with me.”

And he’d seen the way your eyes softened when you noticed the scrunchie on his wrist. The one he’d carried with him like some ridiculous secret all these years.

It should have been so easy.

It was right there, wasn’t it? Everything you both couldn’t say?

But the fear — God, the fear — that was louder.

It drowned out the hope.

It told him that if he reached for you, he’d lose you completely.

Chan let out a shaky breath and tugged the scrunchie loose from his wrist.

Held it between his fingers.

Something so small, so worn, so you.

His throat burned. His chest felt like it might cave in.

He pressed the scrunchie to his forehead, gripping it tightly like it could somehow anchor him, fix the gaping hole he could feel splitting wider inside of him.

He wanted to go back.

Wanted to turn around, walk into the room, pull you into his arms and tell you everything.

How he needed you more than anything.

How the distance between you was killing him.

How he didn’t care if it was reckless and messy and terrifying, all he wanted was you.

But he didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

Because if he said the wrong thing — if you didn’t feel the same —

He would lose you completely.

And that was a risk he couldn’t survive.

So he stuffed the scrunchie into the pocket of his hoodie, like hiding it could somehow bury the ache inside him too.

And he walked away.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Further away from you, no matter how badly he wanted to turn around.

────୨ৎ────

It was past 2AM when Chan gave up pretending he might sleep.

The glow of his phone lit up the dark room as he turned it over in his hand, the screen too bright, too sharp against the aching pull in his chest.

He unlocked it without thinking.

Muscle memory.

Habits built from years of late-night check-ins, “Did you eat?” texts, “Get home safe,” messages, blurry photos of snacks left outside your door after hard days.

He opened your chat.

The familiar thread of texts that stretched back months, years even, full of jokes, plans, worries — the kind of soft friendship that had built your whole world together.

He stared at the blinking cursor for a long time.

Started typing.

Deleted.

Started again.

Deleted again.

Finally, his fingers moved — slow, clumsy.

Are you ok?

He hovered there, thumb just above the send button.

It felt wrong.

Too small.

Too big.

Too dangerous.

Because what he really wanted to say, what he wanted to tell you was buried deep down and none of it would come out.

He could barely even type three words without feeling like he might shatter.

After what felt like an eternity, he hit delete.

Every letter, one by one, disappearing into nothing.

He locked his phone again and dropped it onto the nightstand like it burned him.

Rolled onto his side, clutching the scrunchie so tightly it hurt his hand.

“Idiot.” he whispered into the darkness, voice wrecked and raw.

Because he knew that you were just down the hall. You were just an unlocked door away, but it didn’t feel like that. You’d never felt further from him, like there was a cavan between you now. It was widened by fear, and it continued to grow with everything. By mistakes, by what should have been said out loud but had been silenced by the thought of losing what little friendship you had left.

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ache to quiet, even if just for a few hours.

He couldn’t reach for you.

Not now.

Not yet.

So he stayed still.

Silent.

Drowning quietly in everything he didn’t have the courage to say.

────୨ৎ────

It was supposed to be a “team bonding” night.

Pizza, movies, dumb games — the kind of thing you all used to do without thinking.

The boys had begged you for it, claiming the excuse of everyone working too hard for the comeback. You’d agreed to it along with Chan, marking out time in everyone’s schedule. Originally you’d been looking forward to it.

But now?

Now it felt like trying to hold two magnets together by sheer force of will.

You sat cross-legged on the floor between Seungmin and Felix, your smile stretched a little too tight as you watched Minho dramatically argue over the rules of some game one of them had picked. The living room was loud — laughing, shouting, teasing — but under it all, you could feel the static between you and Chan.

Thick.

Heavy.

He was across the room, half-curled into the corner of the couch, a cap pulled low over his eyes like it could hide him from you. He barely spoke. When he did it was short answers, distracted smiles.

It made your chest ache. This used to be the kind of evening he lived for. The dorm happy, full, everyone home together.

A family.

You tried not to look at him. You really, really tried but your eyes kept betraying you. Kept dragging back to the worn scrunchie still looped around his wrist, no longer hidden away. To the familiar hoodie he’d thrown on, you remembered stealing that one at one point before he stole it back, claiming you already took too many of his clothes. To the quiet, almost invisible way his shoulders tensed when the others teased you — the way he still instinctively reacted, still cared, even if he pretended he didn’t.

You fumbled your turn in the game, making Seungmin crack up at your bad luck.

“You’re usually so good at this!” he wheezed, clutching his stomach.

You laughed as well, too loud, too unbothered, brushing it off like you weren’t crumbling inside.

Chan didn’t laugh. He just watched. Silent. Guarded. Hurting.

When Felix leaned into your side, draping himself dramatically over your lap to try and distract you, you felt Chan’s stare sharpen — a quick, barely-there flicker — before he dropped his gaze again.

It was killing you. The pretending, the silence. The invisible wall that had risen so high between you it felt impossible to climb. You missed him. You missed your best friend.

You missed laughing with him until you cried, missed falling asleep in the studio surrounded by music and half-empty coffee cups. You missed being able to look at him without feeling like the ground might shatter underneath you. But you couldn’t go back and neither could he.

So you played along. You laughed when you were supposed to. Shoved Felix playfully when he got too dramatic. High-fived Changbin when your team won. And all the while, you ached.

You caught his eye — just for a heartbeat.

And in that tiny moment, you could feel everything that hung between you both.

The noise of the dorm wrapped around you like a storm. Laughter echoed off the walls, it was loud, bright, endless.

You couldn’t breathe.

You were drowning in it — the pretending, the weight of everything unsaid. It had been easier, once. You had been better at lying to yourself. Now, even smiling hurt. You stood up too fast, disturbing Felix who’d been lounging next to you.

“Hey, you okay?” Felix asked, glancing up.

“Yeah.” you forced a laugh. “Just remembered something — I, uh— I forgot to finish choreographing that new section for the group routine. I told the backup dancers I’d have it ready tomorrow.”

The lie slipped out before you could stop it.

You hated yourself for it.

There was a pause — just a beat too long — and then everyone nodded, accepting it easily.

Everyone except Minho. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching you. You felt it — the way he saw through you, like he always had. He didn’t say anything in front of the others, but when you bent to grab your bag, he followed you to the door.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly, out of earshot of the others.

You kept your gaze trained on the floor.

“Yeah. Just tired, I can’t believe I forgot about this.” you mumbled, shouldering your bag.

Minho didn’t move. Didn’t push. Just stood there silently, arms crossed loosely, studying you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

You knew he was letting you go because he trusted you but you also knew he didn’t believe you.

Finally, he exhaled.

“Don’t push yourself too hard.” he said simply. His voice was low, rough around the edges in the way it always got when he was worried.

It made your stomach knot uncomfortably.

You managed a small smile. It was real, even if it was weak one and nodded.

“I’ll be fine.”

Minho didn’t answer.

Just reached out and lightly flicked your forehead, it was a small, affectionate gesture, more comforting than a thousand words before stepping back and letting you go.

You walked out the door, his eyes heavy on your back. The second it closed behind you, the lie twisted tighter in your chest. You weren’t fine. You weren’t even close but you didn’t know how to be anymore, not when it felt like everything that kept you standing was slipping right through your hands.

The noise of the dorm, the shouting, the laughter, the forced normalcy. It had wrapped around your throat like a noose all night.

You needed out. You needed space. You needed to stop pretending for just a second.

Your legs carried you on autopilot.

Out the door.

Down the street.

Across the empty parking lot.

You pushed open the side door of the JYPE building and the familiar fluorescent lights buzzed against your skin.

The practice room.

Your safe place.

Your sanctuary.

The only place where, once, you could let go without fear. Now? Now it felt haunted. You slipped inside quietly, letting the heavy door click shut behind you. The room was empty, the mirrors black and cold in the low light.

You dropped your bag by the wall, pulled your hoodie tighter around yourself, and sank down onto the floor. Back braced against the wall, knees pulled to your chest.You stared at your reflection, blurry in the dimness.

You looked tired. Defeated. Someone you barely recognized. You buried your face in your arms. The tears came before you could stop them.

Hot, silent, relentless.

You didn’t sob.

You didn’t wail.

You just broke.

Piece by piece.

All the pressure — the performances, the choreographies, the endless expectations.

All the heartache — Chan’s silence, his distance, the way he looked at you like he wanted to say everything and nothing at once.

All the fear — of losing him, of losing yourself.

It all cracked inside you.

You stayed like that for what felt like forever.

Alone.

Invisible.

Too caught up in your own feelings that you didn’t hear the door open.

You didn’t notice him until you felt his presence — heavy and warm and unmistakably him.

You stayed curled on your side on the studio floor, you weren’t sure when you slipped from sitting to lying down, but that didn’t matter now. Right now you were trying and failing to swallow the broken sobs shaking your chest.

For a moment, there was just silence and then the floor shifted , the air stirring as Chan slowly, carefully, lowered himself down.

You felt the heat of him in front of you, not touching, but close enough that it made your heart ache.

Your breath caught when you finally opened your eyes.

Chan’s face was so close — closer than you could bear — his eyes burning with a mixture of worry and something deeper, something you didn’t dare name.

He hesitated, just for a second. Then his hand moved between you, fingers trembling slightly, and he hooked his pinky around yours. Soft. Tentative. A promise.

You didn’t move, you didn’t pull away. Instead, your pinky tightened slightly around his, clinging to that tiny anchor between you. And something in him jumped.

He edged a little closer, just enough that your foreheads brushed together, the barest touch, but it felt like an earthquake inside you. The soft press of his skin against yours was grounding, overwhelming, almost too much. You squeezed your eyes shut, another tear slipping free.

That was when you heard it. It was barely a whisper, it was raw, bare, pulled back.

“We can stay here… as long as you need.”

You shuddered out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding, your forehead still pressed to his, your pinkies still tangled together.

There were a thousand things you both wanted to say. A thousand ways you could shatter each other but instead, you stayed like this.

Silent.

Steady.

Together.

Neither of you moved.

The studio was so silent you could hear the faint hum of the lights overhead, the distant thump of someone closing a door down the hall, the world carrying on without you.

But here, it was just the two of you.

Your breathing slowly evened out, still shaky but steadier, syncing naturally with his. The tiny contact, pinkies linked, foreheads barely touching. It anchored you both more than any words could have.

You should’ve pulled away. You should’ve said something. You should’ve moved, anything to stop this feeling from growing too big to control. But you didn’t and neither did he.

You felt it every time he exhaled, the way his breath warmed your skin, the way he stayed perfectly still like if he shifted even an inch, everything would shatter.

You wanted to ask him why he followed you, wanted to ask if he could hear how fast your heart was beating, wanted to ask if he felt it too — this fragile, burning thing stretching between you.

But you were both cowards when it came to this.

So instead, you stayed there, tangled in this moment that wasn’t supposed to happen. After a while, your fingers slid just slightly along his, not breaking the pinky hold, just moving closer.

Almost holding hands.

Almost something more.

You heard him breathe in sharply at the touch, a sound so soft you almost missed it. Still, he didn’t pull away. And still, you stayed.

Long past the point you knew you should have.

Long past the point where pretending it meant nothing was still believable.

But you were too tired, too broken to face it tonight.

So you lay there with him — forehead to forehead, pinky to pinky — pretending the tiny world you’d built between you was strong enough to hold all the things you weren’t brave enough to say.

And for now you let it be enough.

Even though deep down, you both knew it never really could be.

────୨ৎ────

You weren’t sure how long you stayed on the floor, time lost all meaning once you entered that room. It was like it existed outside the real world for you. Here, you didn’t have to pretend. In here, you could be honest with yourself.

Eventually, Chan shifted just slightly, breaking the tiny pinky hold to gently brush your hair back from your forehead, his fingers so careful, so tentative it made your throat tighten.

“We should probably go back to the dorm.” he whispered, voice hoarse with something neither of you were ready to name.

His thumb hovered for a second longer against your temple, like he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you.

You shook your head, just the smallest movement but it was enough.

He closed his eyes like it physically hurt him.

“I know,” he said, voice cracking. “I don’t want to either.”

Because you both knew.

As soon as you left this room, you’d have to go back to pretending.

Go back to being what everyone thought you were.

Go back to holding everything inside until it hurt.

And somehow it felt easier to stay here, lost in this fragile, breaking thing between you, than to go back to lying to yourselves.

You didn’t know who moved first. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was him.

But suddenly his hand was cradling your jaw and you were leaning into him and then—

His lips were on yours.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was desperate, bruising, full of every feeling you’d both buried for years, pouring out all at once because neither of you were brave enough to say it with words.

You gasped into him and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss like he couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go, fingers sliding up to tangle in your hair as he pressed closer, closer, until there was no space left between you.

It was messy.

It was aching.

It was everything you were both too scared to admit.

You kissed him back just as desperately, hands fisting in the front of his hoodie — his hoodie— the fabric worn and soft and his, and it made you want to cry.

You could feel it in the way his mouth moved against yours — the frustration, the longing, the pain of wanting more and being too afraid to take it.

It was the kind of kiss that could’ve turned into something else if you’d let it.

It was right there, just hovering on the edge of losing control.

And maybe you would have fallen over that edge if not for the sudden slam of a door somewhere down the hall, loud enough to jolt both of you back into yourselves.

You broke apart like you’d been burned, breathing hard, staring at each other with wide, stunned eyes.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved.

Because you both knew — if you said anything right now, it would unravel everything.

And neither of you were ready for that.

Chan’s hand hovered for a second in the empty space between you, like he wanted to reach for you again but he didn’t.

And you didn’t either.

Instead, you both sat there, raw and shaking, pretending you hadn’t just crossed a line that neither of you could uncross.

────୨ৎ────

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[sweetbans29]

Spoken For - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin may be a little too discreet when it comes to your relationship - Based on THIS request

Warnings: hidden relationship, slight angst

Word Count: 3.7k

Challenge Me (Spoken For Part 2)

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: GAH this is such a cute idea - I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments.

You met Caitlin in middle school. Both of you played club basketball and were always at the same tournaments. Your teams faced off pretty often and you got to know how she played. It made it even more interesting when your coach had you guard her frequently - learning how she was almost unstoppable. The two of you talked here and there, mostly about basketball whenever you did see each other and were in a space where conversation was required.

It wasn't until eighth grade that things sort of took a turn. It was at a tournament that both of your teams had to travel to. When you got there, your team went to watch Caitlin's play - seeing how they were doing before you had to take them on yourselves.

While you were watching them - you noticed Caitlin looking over at you semi-frequently. At first, you thought nothing of it, but as she kept doing it you started to give her little nods. When the game ended and they were dismissed for a rest break, you saw her walk up in your direction.

"Hey CC," you say as you greet her.

She comes up and gives you a half hug - something that wasn’t super common for the two of you.

“You ready to go down?” She says with a little smirk and gets up in your space.

“In your dreams,” you say with a laugh and give her shoulder a little push. “I think the question is, can you put up with losing to me again?” You say as you stare her down - not willing to be the first to step down from a verbal smackdown.

The last time your two teams went up against each other it was absolute carnage. There were times when both of your coaches had to pull you from the game to not get ejected by the refs. Each of your coaches knows how competitive each of you is - knowing losing is not an option. But to you and Caitlin, it was genuinely all fun. It was rare to have someone be as competitive as the two of you and when you face off - it is one of the most captivating games to watch.

“The only reason your team won last time was because Coach pulled me in the last quarter so he wouldn't lose me for the rest of the tournament. You won't be as lucky this time," she says and you just shake your head with a little laugh. Both of your teams are now moving on to their next destinations. She begins to walk past you but doesn't leave without saying, "Plus, my dreams about you are much different." You question if you heard her right, you look up at her and start to feel the blush creep into your cheeks. She gives you a wink as she follows her team, leaving you there flustered.

The rest of that tournament is filled with stolen glances and a little too-aggressive plays. Nothing to get either of you tossed from the game but enough to keep the two of your bodies close enough to keep the electricity running through your veins. Playing against her this time was different. She never went easy on you but there was a different energy that both of you were aware of. It didn't help that you couldn't get what she said out of your head. Was she just messing around and making a joke or was there more behind what she said?

In your final game against her team, you noticed there was a bigger shift in your relationship with Caitlin. During the second quarter, you got fouled pretty bad by a girl on her team and you fell, getting the wind knocked out of you. It took you a second before you were able to get up - you waved off your coach and really anyone who was trying to help you up. You just needed a second to refill your lungs. Once you were back, Cait pushed her way through your team and was the one who insisted on helping you up once you were ready. She grabbed your hand to help you up and then patted you on the shoulder, making sure you were alright. You give her a nod and the game continues. Throughout the rest of the game, Caitlin would keep brushing your hand. At first, you didn't think much of it as it happens often when you are playing defense. But kept happening. And then it changed. After you have been on her defense and she just put up a three. The crowd cheered and you both headed back, you running to offense and her to defense when you feel it. Your hands touch briefly and when they do, her pinky hooks with yours - only for a second, but long enough to know that it happened.

The two of you started talking outside of seeing each other at tournaments. It began with texting about basketball or sending each other the occasional snap of each of you dying after practice, saying something along the lines of the other going down. Before you knew it, you two were texting or talking every day and some days even all day.

You found out that the two of you had a lot in common outside of basketball. Granted, a lot of the time you talked, it was about basketball.

It was a few weeks before summer that the two of you found out you would be going to the same high school, meaning you would be playing on the same team for the first time in either of your basketball careers. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time.

During your high school years, you grow close to Caitlin. The two of you become best friends on the first day of freshman year. It wasn't surprising to you since you spent the better half of the last 6 months talking nonstop. When practices started, the two of you became inseparable. From then on, you did everything together.

It was the summer before sophomore year that you two decided being friends wasn't enough. It happened on a random Tuesday night when you brought up that one tournament that was the starting point of your friendship. Caitlin came clean and told you she had been crushing on you hard since the tournament where you both almost got ejected in the same game. It was a total surprise to you but you would be lying to say you weren't feeling the same way. Except for you, it was the tournament where your hands kept touching.

The two of you established your relationship before heading into sophomore year. You decided it would be best to keep your relationship just between the two of you, not wanting it to interfere with the two of you being on the same team.

It was junior year when both of you were signed to play D1 basketball. Caitlin at the University of Iowa and you at UConn. It was both an exciting time and a sad one. Your schools weren't close at all but you both knew you didn't want to separate when you left - you were it for one another.

It was the winter break of your senior year when the two of you went to the courthouse. Both of your parents were there, along with Caitlin's brothers. It was at Thanksgiving that you told both of your parents you wanted to get married. They tried talking the two of you out of it but neither of you budged. Neither you nor Caitlin had any doubts that this wasn't what you wanted. The two of you knew you wanted to to spend the rest of your lives together - even if that meant being a part for a few years to live out both of your dreams. Even at the courthouse, your parents were still hesitant but they let the two of you get married.

The summer after senior year of high school held some of the best days and hardest days you have ever had. Caitlin and you were finally able to take a mini honeymoon to the East Coast, spending your days on the beach. Shortly after, you were both called off to your respective schools - going back to being competitors on the court instead of teammates. The goodbye was one of the hardest things you have ever had to endure, Caitlin as well.

Before you left, you both decided to keep your marriage just between the two of you. Neither of you wanted/needed the backlash of it going into this next chapter and you both knew the other was there regardless of the distance between you.

Starting college was a pretty easy transition for both of you - the hardest part was being away from one another. You talked daily, usually calling at night or early in the morning. And every break you had was spent at home with one another. Every school break, long weekend, and break in practice had you two visiting one another.

It wasn't until a certain practice that Caitlin started to question if keeping you to herself was going to be possible for much longer.

"Hey Caitlin, I have this friend who has had an eye out for you since the season started." One of her teammates mentions while they are stretching before a practice.

Caitlin laughs and says, "Okay...and?"

"I want to set you guys up on a date. Are you free this Friday?" She asks. The other girls around them encourage Cait to get out there. She has been the only person on the team who hasn't taken any interest in relationships.

"I am not going," Caitlin says. No explanation, no reason. Just a no.

"Why not? It could be really fun! It would benefit you to loosen up a little bit," her teammate says.

Just as Caitlin is about to respond, they are called to start drills.

Practice goes well, and they are feeling good about their upcoming game. The girls make their way to the locker room and are all packing up when the topic is brought up again.

"So...Friday," Cait's teammate brings it back around to get her out of the house on a Friday night.

"What about it?" Cait says with a little laugh.

"Will you go?" She asks. "On the blind date?"

"I am not going on a date on Friday," Caitlin says again. She grabs her bag and is ready to head home for the night to call you. She thinks you will find it quite entertaining that her team is trying to get her to go out.

"Well just think about it and we can revisit the topic tomorrow."

Caitlin states again that she is not going but instead of fighting her teammate on it now, she would rather be at home talking to you.

On her walk home, she calls you.

"Hey babe," you say when you answer your phone, wedging it between your shoulder and your ear. Your hands preoccupied with folding laundry.

"Hi," she says and takes a deep sigh. "I miss you."

"I miss you." You respond and take your phone in your hand again. You are sitting on the floor of your apartment with two piles of laundry taunting you. You sit back, leaning against your couch, and bring your knees up to your chest. "I miss you more than you can imagine. What is it another 3 weeks before we get to see each other?"

"Not soon enough," Caitlin says, chest squeezing a little tighter hearing how much you miss her.

The two of you knew this was going to be hard, but it was so much harder than either of you imagined. Going from being with each other every day of the week to every other month, if you're lucky, has taken a toll on your marriage.

"I have sort of a funny story to tell you," Cait continues, nervous all of the sudden.

"And what is that babe?" You ask, hearing a shift in her tone. You think it is the cutest when she gets nervous around you. She never gets nervous around anyone.

"My teammates are trying to set me up on a date this Friday," she says, not knowing how you are going to react. You are a little shocked but also find it kind of comical. Not that Caitlin wasn't dateable, you knew first hand she was. It was the fact that she never showed any sort of interest in anyone but you.

"Sounds like junior year of high school all over again." You say with a little laugh.

Caitlin's memory takes her back to junior year when the team kept bugging her about turning down Sam Anderson's prom proposal.

"I completely forgot about that! The team wouldn't drop it!" Caitlin says, a smile on her face as she laughs about the old memory.

"Well duh they wouldn't drop it, he was the hottest guy in our class," you say with a little laugh of your own.

"Hey!" She says offended that you just called someone other than her hot.

"Babe, you know I am yours," you say full-on laughing now.

"I can't believe you just called Sam Anderson hot. I will never forget that," Cait says.

"Ya, ya, ya. I am more interested in who they are trying to set you up with on Friday," you say. No jealousy, just pure interest.

"I have no idea," Caitlin says with a little puff. "I just wish people would stay out of my love life, it is doing just fine."

This causes a little sink in your heart. You know everything is fine between the two of you. But the adjustment has you both feeling like a piece of you is missing.

"I know babe, but it is a sweet thing. Your team wants to see you happy and part of that is being with someone." You say, knowing there is nothing you could do to make this any better.

"I am happy! I am happily married! I have all that I need and I don't need anyone digging into that." She says frustrated.

"Hey, Caitlin it's okay baby," you say trying to calm her. "You don't have to go - just tell them that you are busy."

"They are just going to keep pushing, it was brought up three times in 2 hours. They aren't just going to drop it." Caitlin fights back.

"Then tell them you are married!" You say. This wasn't part of the plan but hearing how frustrated Cait was, your firs thought was to screw the plan.

"No, that's not part of the plan. It hasn't even been a full year! We are sticking to the plan and that's final!" Caitlin yells. She doesn't know why she is yelling.

"Then go on the date!" You yell back. Frustration now seeping out of you. You feel a tear make its way down your cheek.

Caitlin doesn't know what to say - never in a million years would she imagine hearing you say to go out with someone. Nobody came close to you in her eyes. That is when she realized how much this was all taking a toll on you. Not just in this instance but when it happened in high school. Whenever someone made a comment about how amazing Caitlin is and how she is going to make so many heads turn. All the talk was always about her and never about you.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up," she says just above a whisper. Caitlin hates that she let this all get to her, so much so that it was her doing that had you sitting on your floor crying.

You sniffle and bring your hand to your head. You don't know what to say. You didn't mean it when you told her she should go on the date, it came out in frustration and you instantly regretted it.

"I know," you choke out. "Hey Cait, I need to go," you say still sniffling. "I need to finish some things before heading to bed."

"No wait, I don't want you to go in this state," she says in a little bit of a panic. "Just stay on the line with me and we can talk about something else - I don't want us to end today like this." It was a little last-ditch plea.

"I'm tired Cait, we can talk tomorrow. I love you," you say, tears streaming down your face.

Caitlin hates this.

"I love you," she says and hears you hang up.

You don't mean to be this curt with Caitlin. You have been under a lot of stress as of late between schoolwork and basketball and not having her with you kept you on constant edge. Talking to her every day has helped but you missed her presence, having her near. The calm that she brought you is one that you haven't felt since both of you went off to uni.

The next day rolls around and Caitlin's teammate texts her about setting her up. Caitlin ignores it and gets going with her day.

The two of you talk that morning - both apologizing for how the conversation the night before went. You both decide to take a quick weekend trip and meet in the middle for the weekend, knowing you both need time with each other, even it if is less than 48 hours.

Just knowing you are going to be in Caitlin's arms soon is enough to give you a push through the week.

Caitlin on the other hand is itching to see you. She begins to count down the hours until she is back with you.

When she arrives to practice, she jumps right in as if it will make time move faster.

During practice, the team takes a quick water break.

"Hey Caitlin, have you thought about Friday?" Her teammate asks. "I told them about you and they are looking forward to getting to know you."

"I told you I am not going," Caitlin says. Not this again. "Plus I am not going to be here this weekend."

"Okay well then Thursday would work," her teammate says clearly not dropping the topic.

"How many times do I have to tell you I am not going?" Caitlin says in disbelief that her team is pushing this so hard.

Another one of her teammates speaks up, "We just want to see you happy, you seem so tense all the time."

"Trust me, I am fine. I'll be better after this weekend," Caitlin says as she thinks about spending it with you.

"Just a few hours, it won't hurt anyone," they continue to pry.

Caitlin gets fed up with them all trying to force this on her when she has made it clear she is not going. Even if they got her to go on this date, she knew they wouldn't stop until she started seeing someone.

It is at this moment that the plan of you two waiting until after college to reveal your marriage flies out the window.

"I am not going on the date because I am not a cheater!" Caitlin practically yells and sits down. Everyone just looks at her with confusion.

Caitlin, with her face in her hands, brings something out from her shirt. It is the chain of her necklace. Everyone knew she wore a necklace but no one knew what was hanging at the end since it was always tucked away in her shirt. She finds the end and pulls out a ring. It is the ring you exchanged in the courtroom that one beautiful winter afternoon.

She takes out the ring and places it on her ring finger, which causes even more confused looks from all of those around her.

"I am not going on that date because I am married," she says and all the girls go crazy. All of them in unbelief of this plot twist their friend and teammate were holding from them.

They pull her up and start pushing her around in excitement that their friend is not only seeing someone but is MARRIED.

"This is actually insane!" One girl says. Caitlin hears things like 'There is no way', 'How has she kept it a secret for this long', and 'When were you married, we are so young'.

The one thing going through Caitlin's mind is how she is going to explain this to you. Her beloved plan - poof, gone just like that.

All the girls are too excited to get back to practice but somehow manage to get through it.

Before she knows it, Caitlin is on a plane heading to Colomub, OH. The two of you planned it so you would arrive within half an hour of each other. Her being the first to arrive.

When she lands, she checks the arrival board and begins to make her way to where your plan gets in. She walks up just as they open the door.

Your plane starts to de-board and you grab your overnight bag. As you make your way off the plane you look at your phone to see if there is any update from Caitlin. You have no notifications from her, just your coach about everyone's home workouts for the weekend.

As you get off the plane you begin to look around to see which way you need to go when you see your favorite person in the world, standing there, waiting for you.

You immediately run up to her and jump into her arms, dropping your bags in the process.

She squeezes you so tightly, that it is hard to breathe. Not that you care.

"Caitlin," you say as you inhale her scent. Missing her was an understatement.

"Hi baby," she says as she finally puts you down. You grab your bag and take her hand. When you look down at your fingers intertwined.

"Babe, you're wearing your ring!" You say in surprise.

"Well, I may or may not have told the team that I have a wife and have been married since high school..." she says hoping there would have been at least some time for them to just be together before she had to tell you that her plan is no longer the plan. She prepares for you to rip her a new one.

When you don't immediately react, she looks over at you.

You just squeeze her hand and lean into her.

"So much for your precious plan," you say with a little laugh as the two of you walk out of the airport.

AN: Thank you for this fun request! Let me know what you think! And as always, thanks for your love and support 🤍

[azzifudd]

i love it when we touch

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

rated: teen

1.9k words

disclaimer: fiction :)

[AO3 Link]

Paige Bueckers is a very physically affectionate person.

It’s the first thing Azzi noticed about Paige after they both made Team USA and started playing basketball with one another.

Azzi has always considered herself a pretty affectionate person, quick to give a high five to a teammate or a hug to her family. But Paige takes it to a whole other level, always the first one over to her during a timeout, giving her a pat on the butt and throwing a sweaty arm around her neck.

With almost anyone else, Azzi might be annoyed, but for some reason, she never seems to get tired of Paige. Not to say Paige isn’t annoying, she is, with her big mouth and near overconfidence. But beneath all that bravado, all Azzi sees is a sweet girl, with kind eyes and a good heart.

It’s that girl who Azzi wants to know. So she leans into every embrace, presses just a bit closer to Paige every time they’re next to each other on the bench. And tells herself that she isn’t imagining that Paige looks at her in a way that she doesn’t look at their other teammates.

Even though she knows it’s probably a bad idea, that after this tournament they might go their separate ways and never talk again, Azzi can’t fight it, and doesn't want to fight the butterflies that erupt in her stomach every time Paige is near.

She leans into it instead, that feeling that she’s teetering over the edge of the cliff, so close to falling, and jumps.

//

Azzi Fudd has very soft hands.

That’s the only thought in Paige’s mind as Azzi drags her through the small patch of trees toward the lake. They’d spent the whole day on the lake with Azzi’s family, only returning to her grandparents’ cabin for dinner.

Everyone else has settled around the fire, eager for s’mores and campfire stories as they wait for the sun to fully set. Paige had nearly sat down herself, tired after an afternoon of trying and failing to water ski, much to Azzi’s amusement. Paige couldn't find it in herself to be too embarrassed when Azzi giggled and wrapped her in a towel, keeping an arm around her as she helped to rub her dry.

Now, they finally break through the line of trees to find a small, almost rickety, pier tucked into a hidden edge of the lake.

“Woah.” Paige releases a breath at the sight.

“It’s nice, right? My grandma showed it to me last year.” Azzi takes a seat on the end of the pier, letting her feet dip into the water. “I come here when I wanna have some peace and quiet.”

“Are you sure you want me here?” Paige says, half joking. She knows her energy can be a lot, especially for Azzi who cherishes her calm.

“Of course I do.” Azzi says, simply, patting the seat next to her and calling Paige forward. “I always want you next to me.”

Paige plops down beside her, shocked at how casually Azzi can say something that can steal all the breath from Paige’s lungs. She wonders if Azzi feels the same spark when their pinkies brush together on the rough wooden surface.

Azzi leans back with a sigh, head thumping lightly against the pier. She stares up at the orange, pink sky, colored by a sun that’s nearly set.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yeah.” Paige whispers, laying back as well, but when Azzi turns her head, she sees that Paige isn’t looking at the sky at all.

Her normally piercing blue eyes are soft as they run over Azzi’s face, lingering on her lips before she looks away, bashfully.

Azzi turns on her side, lifting a hand to run her gentle finger down the bridge of Paige’s nose.

“You’re sunburned.” Her hand drifts to Paige’s cheek, hovering for a moment before she goes to take it away.

Paige’s hand darts up to grasp Azzi’s wrist, pulling her hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. Azzi’s pulse hammers between her fingers.

Paige’s eyes find Azzi’s mouth again.

“Can I—“

“Yeah.” Azzi replies, eyes already slipping shut as she leans in and presses her lips to Paige’s. Her aim is slightly off and both their lips are chapped from being in the sun all day.

It’s perfect.

//

Paige Bueckers is a pest.

Azzi has known this since they met at Team USA tryouts. She’d seen this pale stringbean and dismissed her as a threat before quickly being proven wrong.

Paige was probably the best player there, besides her, of course. Offensively, she was able to do anything she wanted, whether it was get to the rim, or nail a jump shot with a hand in her face. Which made it even more impressive that she preferred to pass, and she seemed to love to pass to Azzi. And Azzi had never had this instant on court chemistry with anyone else. It’s like they both knew where the other was on the court without even having to look.

But just because they played well together it didn’t mean that they didn’t love to compete against each other too. Even now, as they play two on two with a pair of little girls, Paige is talking trash and trying way too hard on defense. She grins a little bashfully when she bats one of the girl’s shots out of the paint and Azzi playfully glares at her.

Azzi casually stands in the paint, watching as her young teammate dribbles at the three point line. Paige presses up behind her, hand ghosting over her shoulder, then down her back. Her touch burns even through the material of Azzi’s t-shirt.

Paige leans into her hip, head over her shoulder, breath hot against her neck.

Azzi pushes back half-heartedly, not actually wanting Paige to pull away. “You know we’re on camera right now, don’t you?”

“I’m just playing good D.” Paige replies, snarkily, before moving to cut off the girl moving toward the rim.

One of the girls finally scores and they call it a game. Azzi says goodbye to the last of the campers who finally trickle out of the gym. She can feel Paige’s heated gaze from all the way across the room.

“Are you gonna help me clean up or are you just gonna sit there?”

Paige is sitting on the bleachers, leaned back with her elbows braced behind her and legs spread. She cocks her head with a smirk, beckoning Azzi to her.

Azzi rolls her eyes as she approaches, stopping right in front of Paige without touching her.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, looking up at her, eyes big and tender as her hands graze the outside of Azzi’s thighs, her hips.

Azzi softens instantly. Paige’s touch never feels like less than worship.

Azzi leans down, linking her fingers behind Paige’s neck and pulling her into a kiss. She knows it’s risky for them to do this here, where anyone could walk in and see them, but she can’t bring herself to care as Paige deepens the kiss, drawing Azzi onto her lap, hands gripping her ass and squeezing.

They kiss for a few long moments, and Azzi loses herself in the slip of Paige’s tongue against hers and the way her shoulders flex when Azzi digs her nails into the back of her neck.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Azzi’s phone vibrating loudly against the bleacher beside them. It’s her mom.

“Where are you two?” She sounds clearly exasperated even over the phone. “We’re waiting for you at the restaurant.”

Azzi pulls back, ignoring Paige’s sound of disappointment when she dislodges her hands from where they’ve crept beneath her shirt.

“We’ll be there soon,” she replies. “Just got held up at the gym.”

“Hmm.” Her mom sounds unconvinced as they hang up.

“Held up, huh?” Paige looks up at her, eyebrow quirked.

“Shut up.” Azzi pushes her in the face. “You better hurry up and help me or else you won’t be doing any more ‘holding’ any time soon.”

Paige is on her feet in record time.

//

Azzi Fudd is not a jealous person.

And that’s what she tells Allie one night at Ted’s when the freshman asks her if she gets annoyed by how many women approach Paige.

Ice and KK burst into laughter at her response, but they shut up as soon as she shoots them a glare.

“I don’t get jealous!” Azzi protests. “Often.” She acquiesces when Ash cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“I mean everyone gets jealous sometimes right?” Sarah offers up.

“Exactly.” Azzi says, ignoring the snickering she hears. “Anyways, I don’t worry about that.”

She gestures to where Paige is at the bar, smiling politely as a line of mostly women approaches her for photos, gritting her teeth a little when an especially busty woman presses up close to Paige.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Fudd. Paige is crazy jealous too.” KK laughs. “Watch.”

She directs Allie to put her hand on Azzi’s arm. “Pretend to laugh at something Azzi says.”

Allie appears unsure, but she does as she’s told. Not even half a minute passes and suddenly Paige is back at the tableside, sliding in between Azzi and Allie. She puts Azzi’s drink on the table in front of her, subtly dislodging Allie’s hand.

“Here’s your drink, babe.”

When she steps back, she slips an arm behind Azzi, hand finding its place low on her back. She scowls a little bit at Allie who smiles awkwardly as she pulls her hand back.

“What?” Paige asks when KK and Ice both smirk obnoxiously and begin elbowing the freshmen.

“Just showing the newbies how jealous you get.” KK cackles.

Paige scratches the back of her head. “Well..” She shrugs, bashfully, unable to deny it.

Her attention is drawn when Azzi leans in close, pressing her lips to where Paige’s jaw meets her neck.

“I like it.” Azzi says, quiet enough that only Paige can hear. Paige smiles in response and drops a kiss on her forehead.

//

Paige Bueckers is at peace.

There’s a light breeze that keeps the climate from being too hot, but the sun warms her skin as she lays out on a large beach lounger on a quiet stretch of beach. She has a glass of her favorite cocktail, an interesting book, and no responsibilities for the foreseeable future.

But most importantly, she has Azzi.

She’d started out the day beside Paige, with her own book and drink, looking so damn good in her bikini that Paige had almost dragged her back to their room.

But the beach had looked too beautiful to abandon, so they’d settled in for a day of relaxation.

They’d read their books for the first few hours, taking breaks to film a few TikToks and pose for a few selfies, but eventually Paige notices Azzi’s head begin to bob and soon enough, her book slips out of her grasp as she dozes off.

Paige picks up the book, slipping a bookmark into place for Azzi to come back to later. Within just a few minutes, Azzi has rolled into Paige’s space, ending up with her head pillowed on Paige’s shoulder and an arm and a leg thrown over her. She stays asleep.

Paige knows they can’t stay in this position for long without risking sunburns and bad tan lines, but she wants to savor it as long as she can.

After a while, Paige feels the arm beneath Azzi starting to fall asleep. She shifts a bit, accidentally jostling her.

“You ‘kay?” Azzi asks, lashes fluttering as she wakes up.

“Yeah, sorry.” Paige adjusts herself, tucking Azzi even closer in her embrace. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Azzi murmurs. She presses a kiss to Paige’s sternum. “Love you.”

Paige watches her girl fall back asleep on her chest. Yeah, life is pretty good.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Superstitions pt. 2 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Summary: Y/N has known lots of superstitions. This particular one is Lando's favourite.

Based on an anon's response to the previous imagine: "superstitions" is so so so so soooo cute 😭😭😭 and honestly, confession, i also do "nazar utarna" before he races so it just made me feel very seen 😭😭😭. thank you for writing!

➥ ln x desi!reader ☁︎ ➥ fluff ☁︎

masterlist ☾☼ Read Part 1 here

According to Lando, one of his favourite things about Y/N was how passionate you were about your country and traditions. He could spend hours and hours listening to you talk about the many festivals that you celebrated, and he could spend hours looking at you wearing a lehenga or sari. Personally, he thought that you looked the most beautiful in a lehenga. Red, and shiny, and twirling under the lights. He was pretty sure that was the moment he truly fell in love with you.

The black thread on his left ankle was a new addition to the few accessories he wore on a daily basis. Though, you had reminded him that it was not an accessory, but rather a protection thread. He was thankful for it, regardless. Oscar and Carlos had questioned him about it when they had met during the summer break, but Lando could only smile and shake his head. It was a concept that he believed would go over his friends' heads. He also liked to keep that little thing between the two of you. It was his most favourite secret. Something that only the two of you shared.

Though, when the two of you had started dating, Lando found his favourite superstition that you believed in. It was during one of the few races you had seen from the paddock. Lando had managed to sneak you in, to avoid the media capturing your face or writing headlines about you.

Just minutes before he had to sit in the car, he had turned to you for a quick kiss. His arms were around your waist, keeping you close to his body. Pecking your lips, he had said, "Wish me luck?"

You had smiled so radiantly. Pulling back a little from him, you rubbed your hands together and then made a waving motion on either side of his head, bringing your hands back to your temple where you curled your fingers and rested them against it.

"Good luck, my love." You had said, kissing him again.

Lando had been puzzled by your action. Before he could question you though, people were calling him, telling him to get ready for the race. Kissing you again, because, honestly, he couldn't get enough of you, Lando quickly ran to his car, and you were led to the screens to watch.

He had no idea what you had done, but whatever it was, it had worked. He achieved P2 in that race, something that he was incredibly proud of after a long, hard fight with the other drivers. The media had kept him occupied for far too long, and before he knew it, he was standing on the podium with his champagne. His eyes stayed on yours for as long as possible, because how could they not? Lando completely dedicated this particular win to you, because it was your magic that had worked.

What had felt like hours later, Lando finally saw you in his driver's room. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling on your phone. At the sound of the door opening, you had looked up, and instantly smiled at Lando's happy face.

He had kissed you desperately, whispering how much he loved you and how thankful he was for you in between his kisses. He could not stop smiling, and neither could you.

"I have to ask, though," His forehead was pressed against yours, his hands moving all over your body.

"What do you have to ask?" Your hands played with the hair at the nape of his head.

"What was that thing you did? Before I went for the race. When I told you to wish me luck." Lando asked.

Pulling back from him, your cheeks turned red. It made Lando giddy.

"It's this thing we do back home. It's called 'nazar utarana'. When I did that to you, I was basically just neutralizing any and all evil energies that may have found home in you." You explained softly. It was new for you. To have someone who wanted to know more about your culture, encourages you to embrace them even more.

Lando had pressed his face in your neck, pressing kisses as he whispered how grateful he was for you. You had laughed, but you had held him close.

It had become a routine for Lando after that. Before every race, he would FaceTime you, watch you as you would do the thing, and every time, he would fall in love with you even more.

You and all your superstitions.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Honestly, I was not planning on writing part two of this, but reading the anon's message, it inspired me. I hope you enjoyed this! i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

[ynnova]

scolded

' GLIMPSES OF THE PAST ' ask game // scolded 📼

scolded – for a scene from my muse's past in which someone told them off, justifiably or not

time period . 2021 | wc . 1.7k | tw . hiding injuries / description of injury, language, thoughts of being a problem (don't know how to word that properly sorry), brief allusion of mingi's hiatus, hospitals

you were uncomfortable. the longer you stood on your ankle, the harsher the throbbing got. and dancing on it definitely didn't help the pain. you tried being gently with it, but the choreo was demanding on your feet.

if only you had been more careful during that performance. then you wouldn't have fallen the way you did and hurt you ankle the way you did. you told the guys and staff you were okay after it was all over, pushing back the pain that was slowly beginning to appear. you couldn't afford to cause any issues for everyone because you hurt your damn ankle.

not when the nine of you were able to perform together again.

"stop," your choreographer said, "y/n you're not moving your feet correctly," he said, pointing out what the issue was. you heard some of your boyfriends let out a few annoyed sighs, but none of them said anything.

"i'm sorry," you said, feeling a wave of guilt and anxiety wash over you like a tidal wave. the throbbing of your ankle didn't help this feeling either.

"it's okay, why don't we all take a break to work individually and then we'll come back," he suggest and the others nod their heads. "wooyoung will you work with y/n?"

"sure," he said with a huff but wooyoung didn't look at you and it made your heart sink. you can tell he's annoyed that you all haven't moved on from this part of the choreo because no matter what your stupid foot just wouldn't move like you needed it to.

it’s also getting harder to walk without limping, but you tried in order to not make it obvious that you were hurt. you bent down, feigning to fix your socks when really you were just trying to massage your ankle a little bit. an attempt to ease the pain if just for a little bit.

when you straighten back up, wooyoung is standing next to you. his face was void of his usual energy and instead replaced with a tired expression. tired and annoyed.

"thank you for helping me, woo," you tell him softly but he only hums in response, grabbing you by the forearm to guide you over to the wall where you can focus more.

"let's just get this over with," he says before he's getting into position and the two of you begin running through the choreo without much conversation.

and so you both ran over the choreo over and over again until you thought you were going to collapse. the pain in your ankle was starting to grow unbearable and you could see wooyoung's patience begin to grow thin with each time you messed up.

"y/n," wooyoung's voice sounded just as annoyed as he looked. a sigh leaving from between his lips and his eyebrows furrowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "what about this is so fucking hard?"

"i-i don't know, my feet– they just..." you didn't know how to tell him that you're trying your best, but your ankle just wasn't cooperating.

"we've been doing the same choreo part for the past three days. what about it isn't fucking sticking, huh?" his tone is aggressive as he speaks to you.

"i'm trying my fucking best, wooyoung."

"apparently not!"

"hey you two!" hongjoong calls out, stepping between the two of you before either of you could go any further.

but that doesn't stop wooyoung, "hyung! she's fucking up! tell her we're all tired of waiting on her and want to move on!"

"wooyoung, you need to chill," hongjoong says turning to the younger male. his leader tone coming out as he speaks to wooyoung. "let's just... run through it one more time and call it a day," he suggests and everyone around agrees while you choose to remind quiet.

you walk over to your spot, opting to lean more on your other side than the one that is slowly becoming more and more pained. you'll have to soak your foot once you get back to the dorm.

you all are going through the choreo, putting all your focus on trying not to put too much pressure on your one foot when you suddenly feel a painful cramp run through it. the cramp makes you halt in your movements as you suddenly drop to the floor, attempting to reach for your foot. suddenly, the music stops and some of your boyfriends are rushing over to you, calling your name.

"y/n, what's wrong? what's wrong?" you hear hongjoong asking, but you can't find it in yourself to answer him. the pain makes it too unbearable to do anything. you feel tears beginning to run down your face as a sob racks through your body.

"her foot! check her foot!" you hear seonghwa say and you can only scream no! inside your head as you feel someone ripping your shoe off before your sock.

"what the fuck?" hongjoong says, "her foot is all bruised and swollen, someone go get a manager. we need to take her to the hospital."

"y/n, sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?" seonghwa's voice is calm as he gently cups your face. you didn't even realize your eyes were closed as you attempted to open them, tears blurring your vision but you can tell its seonghwa. "baby, it'll be okay," he says, taking one of your hands and letting you squeeze it. "manager-nim is gonna take us to the hospital."

"n-no, please," you manage to whimper out as another sob racks through your chest as your eyes drift from seonghwa to hongjoong who has your foot resting in his lap. your other boyfriends are standing watching you in shock.

and then your eyes meet with wooyoung’s who looks like he was just punched in gut, face full of guilt from having just yelled at you. your eyes go back to seonghwa; however, not able to bare your own guilt of not telling anyone.

you felt your eyes closing again as a bunch of voices came into the practice room before you were quickly, yet careful being picked up and carried. you could just faintly hear hongjoong talking before his voice fades, your mind once again being consumed with the pain. you were put into the van, eyes opening to see you were sandwiched between your eldest two boyfriends. how did hongjoong even get here so fast.

you were still holding seonghwa's hand, when you used your other one to rest for hongjoong's. your captain wordlessly taking your hand, thumb running over the back in order to sooth you.

"why didn't you tell us about your foot, y/n?" hongjoong finally asks, voice full of different emotions, mainly worry.

"i'm s-sorry," you say in an attempt to try and move it, but you let out a hiss at the pain that shoots through your entire leg.

"baby, don't move it," seonghwa tells you.

once you made it to the hospital and into a room, the doctors were quick to tell you and your manager that you had sprained your ankle. you had sprained it when you fell on stage a week ago. if you had gone any longer without treating it, then you definitely would have done some serious damage to it.

"she'll need to rest for about four weeks, maybe longer if it doesn't start to heal," the doctor said and you felt the blood leave your face at his words. you wouldn't be able to practice or perform for at least four weeks. this is was exactly what you didn't want to happen.

the doctor and nurses did a few more things before giving you and your manager what you needed to treat your ankle, including a brace over your foot. as they were examining it you finally got a good look at how bad it was. swollen and bruised all the hell, you could see the bruises and hissed every time a nurse poked at your foot.

once you were released, you and manager found hongjoong and seonghwa in the waiting room. both of their eyes drifting down to where your brace was, frowns painting their lips. seonghwa was the one to help you to the van while hongjoong and your manager walked in front of you both. your manager relaying the information the doctor told both of you to your boyfriend.

the pain was still there, but wasn't as bad as earlier; however, the silence on the ride to the dorms was just as unbearable as the pain your suffered from. hongjoong refused to speak, eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his lips as he looked out the window beside him.

"joong–

"why didn't you tell us you hurt your ankle?" he asks, cutting you off, but still didn't look at you.

"i... i didn't want to– didn't want to worry anyone," you said. "i was scared i would cause a problem and i didn't think it was a big deal at first but th–

"didn't think it was a big deal!?" he cuts you off again, turning to finally look at you and that's when you notice the tears in his eyes. "you got hurt! of course that's a big deal! don't be so selfish, y/n! do you know how scared i was when i saw you fall to the floor earlier!" he confesses, tears running down his cheeks and you can't stop your own tears from falling. guilt finally eating at you.

"i'm sorry," you say, hanging your head as you try wiping your tears away, but seonghwa is quick to engulf you in his arms.

"please don't think you'll cause issues or problems," he says softly, "we love you so much and don't want to see you in pain. please don't hide stuff from us."

"i'm sorry for hiding my injury from you guys," you tell them, eyes meeting hongjoong's, "i was afraid of causing more issues if i wasn't able to perform with you guys, especially after we just got mingi back. i didn't want him to be stressed either," you add, looking down at your hands as you continue to cry.

"my love," seonghwa says, pressing a kiss to your head before you feel hongjoong lean over to kiss you as well.

"promise you won't hide stuff from us anymore," hongjoong says and you look at him before nodding your head.

"i promise."

[bisexualhedgehogs]

I had a silly idea about a possible way Shadow could meet the Wachowskis again after falling back to earth, so I wrote something for it. I'll make an ao3 account at some point and post it there as well. Warnings for injuries i guess? Nothing too bad tho.

Anyway enjoy my dumb one shot (also hints of possible sonadow but way too early for either of them to understand any feelings yet)

Shadow's first thoughts after landing hard into the ground were how dizzy and cold he was. He had to think for a moment, had he survived that blast? Must have. You dont feel this sore all over if you're dead. He groaned and slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. It was a vibrant shade of blue, similar to Sonic, he realized. He hoped the idiot was alive as he watched some clouds go by. He was so distracted by his anger the last few days that he had not noticed how beautiful the sky was during the day too. He could feel the burns on his skin start to heal, and he stayed there for a while until the sun began to set. Then he had to force himself up and search for his disgarded inhibitor rings. Luckily, they landed nearby.

Once they were found, he tried to figure out where he was. He was in a crater among some tall snow-capped mountains. He had landed in some sort of dense wilderness. The view was wonderful, but the air was starting to get even more of a chill. His gloves had partially disintegrated during his fall through earths atmosphere, and he could feel the cold on the pads of his hands. Honestly, he could feel it down to his core, like his bones were cold. He had to move though.

He checked if his air shoes were still in tact enough for him to glide instead of walking, and thankfully, they were. He didn't have enough chaos energy at the moment to just teleport down the mountain. His lower left leg was trying to heal from what he guessed was some sort of fracture or strain, and putting weight on it was incredibly uncomfortable. Even gliding still hurt, but he was able to ignore it for now. He had to. He stopped to hide in various small caves and under fallen tree roots when he thought he heard humans nearby walking around or needed to rest his leg.

After over a week in the forest, around dusk, he came across a large sign that read, "Welcome to Green Hills." He moved slower as a brief rain and snow shower mix blew through. He shivered and tried to stay hidden as he approached town. He realized the glow from his shoes could give him away, and now he had no choice but to walk, which turned into a limp.

"Fuck, maybe I did break something," he hissed as he stopped to rest again. The lack of food was slowing his healing. He ended up taking his shoe off on that foot and carrying it. The weight of it was hurting too much. He realized he had never felt grass under his bare feet before. It was nice, even if it was crunchy and cold.

He continued walking along the road, avoiding stepping in any patches of snow as best he could, just out of sight in the treeline. He was lost in thought when a deer ran out in front of him and startled him enough that he used what little chaos energy he had to move. Big mistake since he didn't have a specific location in mind. He panicked and landed hard on the road, directly in front of a large pickup up truck that had swerved to miss the deer from seconds ago, and it did not have time to brake fully. The pain in his leg and blinding headlights in his eyes made him freeze as his ears went flat against his head.

‐---------------

About 10 minutes earlier, Sonic was helping Maddie load some groceries into the back of the truck. Normally, all three boys would tag along, but with Tom still healing and insisting he needed the air, Knuckles and Tails stayed home to prevent any accidental added stress. Sonic tagged along since he did not like leaving Tom's side yet.

Speaking of Tom, there was some short bickering between the two adults, as Tom had snuck into the driver's seat while she was loading everything into the back.

"It's 15 minutes back home, let me drive. Please? I drive with one arm all the time."

Sonic laughs, "Yeah, when you're stuffing your face full of donuts, but you could still use that arm."

Maddie groaned, "Okay fine, but if you're so healed and competent now, you can also make dinner when we get home."

"Deal." Tom couldn't hide his grin, and Maddie looked ready to slap him on the back of his head. Sonic was seatbelted between them, kicking his legs, happy his family was getting back to normal. He opened the sunroof so he could look at the stars that were peaking out behind some clouds. He became uncharacteristically quiet and lost in thought.

"You thinking about Shadow again, Bud?" Tom finally asked him.

Sonic nodded, "yeah, I just miss him. He deserved a second chance, and he didn't even get to fully take it. Doesn't seem fair."

Maddie pet his head, "I know, sweetie, earth failed him. I'm just so glad we found you before GUN did. We are definitely never trusting them again"

Sonic leaned against her and watched the stars for another minute or so until they completed disappeared behind some clouds. He closed the sunroof when it started to rain and snow a bit.

He shivered, "I thought I smelled snow. It sure felt cold enough."

Maddie side eyed her husband, "Tom, I swear if you crash in this weather, I will kill you."

Tom laughed nervously, "Relax, it's not even sticking to the road at all. Actually, it looks like it stopped up ahead."

Suddenly, Sonic started sneezing, repeatedly.

Maddie groaned, "Sonic, is there just something in your nose, or is danger coming."

Tom scoffed, "Oh come on, him sneezing is not a sign of danger, that's just a coincid- ... OH SHIT."

They all screamed as a deer suddenly ran out in front of them, and he had to swerve and brake.

Sonic yelled, "SEE NOT A COINCID- ... LOOK OUT!" Something black and spikey suddenly appeared on the road as well. They were still mid swerve, and Tom could not swerve again without risking tipping the truck. He also was a bit too shocked to see those red eyes glowing at them. All he could think to do was slam on the brakes as hard as he could. They felt one of the front truck tires bounce over something.

Shadow managed to duck his head down in time, but said truck tire went over his already injured leg that he couldn't curl up to his body as fast as the other one. There was a lot of screaming from inside the truck that was now above him. One of the voices sounded familiar. He couldn't chaos control himself again, still entirely too worn out. He was afraid he would land somewhere worse anyway and could only mentally prepare himself to run if need be.

Inside the truck, Maddie and Tom slowly looked at each other before finally looking down at the Sonic. Sonic looked just as shocked as them before he finally unbuckled himself and stood up on the seat, "Tom, we told you you shouldn't drive with one arm! You just got out of the hospital yesterday, and you hit a ... a ... hedgehog? wait. Wait. ... was that Shadow. Is he alive? ... oh god, the truck bounced ... OH MY GOD, DAD, DID YOU JUST RUN OVER SHADOW?????." He zipped out of the car in a flash, and Maddie gave her husband an exhausted look before she soon followed.

Tom needed another moment before he got out as well. 'What the hell just happened', he thought. These kids were going to give him a stroke.

Sonic quickly got on the ground behind the truck and looked under the bed. Yep, there was Shadow, curled up between the back tires with his quills sticking out in all crazy directions in defense, clearly giving into the instinct to make himself as big and scary as possible. "Jeez, you look like a wet feral cat under there. Why are you missing a shoe? Are you okay?"

There were some orange sparks and a low growl before he realized who was talking to him. "... Sonic? What are you -"

Before he could register anything, Sonic grinned and quite literally yanked him out from under the truck by his quills and pulled him into a hug. Shadow actually hissed at him.

"Oh, come on, it's just a hug, relax. And the quill thing was payback for throwing me by mine back at that base." He laughed, and then paused. "I'm so glad you're alive, Shadow." Sonic sounded almost ready to cry from relief. Shadow could even hear Sonics tail moving behind him, softly thumping against the road.

Shadow sighed. "It's not that," his voice was a bit shakey from adrenaline still. "I hurt my leg in the fall, and then whatever idiot is driving your truck ran it over. If it wasn't broken before, it sure is now"

Sonic pulled away from him and looked over at his leg. It looked swollen, some skin and fur was also scrapped off. "Oh, that's why you're holding your shoe. MADDIE, he's hurt. Come quick. Tom ran over his leg"

Shadows quills bristled as she slowly approached with a first aid kit and a flashlight. "Who is she?"

"Shhh, relax, Shadow. I won't hurt you. I'm Maddie. Tom's wife, otherwise known as the idiot who ran you over. You've, uh, met before." Her tone was a little sharper at the end than she meant for it to sound. She felt bad when shadow flinched at her tone. He looked incredibly pathetic with his ears back like that and visibly shivering. And young. He must be Sonic's age. 'Oh no, we're going to adopt this one too arent we?' She thought to herself.

Sonic was about to reassure Shadow that it was safe when Tom got out of the truck.

"I'm an idiot? Why is he appearing out of thin air into traffic? I didn't even know you kids could do stuff like that" He didn't sound mad. He was even laughing a little. Until he saw Shadow's leg. He frowned and knelt down beside them. Shadow backed up into Sonic and growled again. He looked very nervous now. Both adults felt their heartstrings tug a little. He just looked like a scared kid to them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you. You're safe, don't worry."

Shadow stopped growling and just titled his head confused, " ... you didn't hit me on purpose? For revenge?"

Sonic rolled his eyes and hugged him again, "Dude, we seriously need to ban that word from your vocabulary."

Tom laughed, "No, of course not." He realized Shadow was being completely serious and not joking. "Wait, why would I purposely try to run you over?"

Shadow glared, "Do you have brain damage? I almost killed you. I'm a little impressed you survived actually." He added dryly.

"Oh trust me, I remember. But you think that means I should try to get back at you, though? You're a kid." He seemed concerned at his way of thinking. Especially when Shadow just answered "yes" like it was the most obvious answer in the world. He even almost seemed annoyed now that this wasn't on purpose.

"I don't need your pity." He just leaned into Sonic, quills deflating finally. He was so focused on Tom that he didn't even realize Maddie had begun to check his leg until he felt pain from her moving it. He shot her a warning glare and growled, "I didn't say you could touch me."

Sonic squeezed him, "Hey, easy, she's a vet. If you dont trust her, at least trust me. Besides, if you don't let her splint that, I'll have to. And I'll make Knuckles restrain you." Sonic smiled but also looked completely serious.

Shadow groaned, "is he the red one?" Sonic nodded in response, resting his head on top of Shadow's. He couldn't even use his chaos control now even if he wanted to with Sonic having such a firm grip on him. Something told him Sonic was aware of this too. "Fine, but only because I want that big brute touching me even less."

Maddie laughed a little and finished bandaging his leg. She also examined his bare foot for injuries. "Well, I'll have to properly resplint this later with better supplies, but all your adorable little toe beans look in tact besides being cold."

Shadow looked at her like she was insane, "what the fuck is a toe bean?" Sonic started laughing into Shadows quills. Even Tom laughed, which startled Shadow. "I don't get what's so funny."

"Just the way you said it, and it's a cute way to refer to pawpads." Maddie joined in the laughter and rubbed his foot to warm it up a little.

"Stop that. I'm fine. ... and I'm not cute"

Sonic looked at his face and grinned, "I'm telling you from experience. Pouting does not help. They also think that's cute. Humans are weird like that."

Shadow tried to finally squirm out of Sonic's embrace, "Can I get up now? The road is cold and staying here will draw too much attention"

Maddie nodded and helped Sonic get Shadow into the truck. She had to move to the middle so Shadow could rest with his back against the door and his leg over Sonic's lap. Thankfully, him and Sonic were small enough to both fit onto the passenger seat without being too squished. He also obviously trusted Sonic and didn't mind being so close to him. If Shadow didn't look so apprehensive of them still, she would have commented on how cute they looked together like that.

Instead, Maddie just turned up the heat when she realized Shadow was shivering still. "You look cold. Do you want a blanket? I think there is one behind your seat. How long were you in the woods?"

He sighed as Sonic made the decision for him and got the blanket out, and draped it over him. "A week, I think. Maybe longer. I landed in the mountains."

"Well, when we get home, you can have a nice warm bath and something to eat. You're probably starving. ... and dehydrated. Oh no have you been without water this whole time?"

Shadow snuggled a bit more into the blanket (and Sonic) before answering, "No, I drank from a couple streams, I'm fine." He still didn't understand why they were being so kind. He didn't feel he deserved it. After a long silence, he finally spoke again with a low voice. "Sorry."

Tom pulled into the driveway of their house, and him and Maddie exchanged looks before looking back at Shadow. "For what specifically?"

Shadow's ears were flat against his head again. He looked quite sad and guilty. "For attacking you, I ... I thought you were Walters. He's the one who froze me for 50 years. I was just so angry ... and I wanted him to hurt. He didn't even let me finish saying goodbye." He hated how his voice cracked at the end. He wanted to curl up in a ball, but his leg wouldn't allow it.

Sonic pulled him into another hug, or as much of one as he could with Shadow's left leg also resting on his lap. Maddie slowly put a hand on his head. Shadow flinched a little but didn't protest. She softly pet behind one of his ears, like she does with Sonic when he's upset.

Tom finally spoke, "I hold no grudge against you Shadow, you're just a kid like Sonic. And I can't say I wouldn't have also punched Walters if I went through something like that. Besides, you also saved the world, which includes us. Now, let's get you inside."

Shadow just hid his face into the blanket. "I don't deserve your kindness." His voice cracked more. He really really didn't want to cry, but he was so tired of it all, tired of fighting and hating himself, tired of being so cold. Just everything. It was becoming harder to keep it together. He was absolutely exhausted. He could feel himself shaking more, and he hoped they just assumed it was only because he was cold still.

Maddie pet his head again, "You know, the friend you lost would probably want us to be kind to you. And for you to accept it. So let us."

This time, when he tried to talk, he couldn't find his voice. A small sob escaped instead, and he covered his head with the blanket, which caused Sonic to hug him as tight as he could. They were right, Maria would want someone to help him. It was just hard to accept. He needed a minute to calm himself, but he eventually allowed Maddie to pry him away from Sonic and carry him inside.

He tried to protest being carried like a child, but she would not allow it, not with a broken leg anyway. So he accepted it and rested his head on her shoulder, sniffling a few times as quietly as he could.

Once inside, Sonic got his other shoe off, and what was left of a very dirty burned sock, and placed both shoes by the door next to his. Knuckles and Tails looked up from the couch, and Tom shushed them before they could react too loudly. Even though Shadow was mostly covered by the blanket, the other two instantly recognized the fur pattern on his legs and feet. Tails ears were back, clearly concerned about how bad the one leg looked.

"Is that the more impressive hedgehog? Is he alright?" Knuckles finally asked.

Maddie held Shadow tighter when she felt him tense up, "Yes, and he'll be fine, mostly cold, I think. I'm going to take him upstairs for a bath and a proper look at his leg. Go help Tom with dinner since he still has his arm in a sling. He'll explain everything. You too, Sonic."

"Yeah, let me tell you both how Tom clearly shouldn't be driving yet and literally ran Shadow over with the truck."

Maddie could hear them bicker about it while she walked upstairs. She set Shadow down on the bathroom counter while she got the bath started. His eyes were still a bit wet, but he looked calmer now, just tired. She held some bottles up to him, "Which of these scents do you like better?"

Shadow seemed surprised, "I get to pick? Why?"

Maddie looked concerned at his confusion, "I want you to like it. No one wants to smell like something they don't like."

He slowly sniffed the bottles, and finally picked the lavender ones. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself while she undid the makeshift splint and checked his leg.

"If you'll trust me, I would like to get this x-rayed tomorrow. Sonic can stay with you. You might need a cast"

"You don't need to, just splint it so the bone is straight, and it should fully heal in a few days as long as I eat something."

She sighed, "I shouldn't believe you, but nothing would surprise me these days with you bunch. Oh the skin has already healed from being run over. Alright, but if there is no improvement in a few days, I'm taking you. Now, let's get you warmed up. You're still shaking."

"Yeah, well, I went from nearly burning as I fell through your atmosphere to plumetting into a snow-covered mountain."

Maddie paused for a moment, "You fell? All the way down to earth? How are you not burned and more injured ... how are you even alive." She began to palpate him, discovering some cracked ribs.

"Stop, I'm fine. The burns healed already. Bones just take longer. ... and I'm not sure, honestly. ... I wasn't expecting to live."

She really didn't like how disappointed he seemed to be over being alive. Might be time to finally look for a therapist. She brushed the thought aside and picked him up again to help him get into the tub, which he grumbled about but couldn't really stop her. "Well, I'm glad you're alive. You can't make up for what you did if you're dead. And Sonic would have kept being sad."

He slowly sank down into the water, covering himself up to his chin. At least he looked more relaxed now. Finally he asked, "Sonic was sad? Over me?"

She began to wash his quills and detangle them. She was a pro at this after having to help Sonic with his so often. "Of course he was. He hasn't stopped talking about you. The first thing he did when Tom woke up was tell him about what you two did. I'm pretty sure he has some sort of crush on you. It's cute."

Shadow chose to ignore the part about Sonic liking him like that. Clearly, this woman was just stupid. "Yeah, well, he's weird." Despite that, he began to purr softly as she washed his quills, at least until something fell out of his quills and startled them both. He slowly lifted a green gemstone out of the water.

Maddie laughed, "Oh my god, that's where the last one has been. They've been looking for days. Knuckles will bear hug you when he finds out it's safe"

Shadow winces, "Uh, maybe the blue idiot can give it to him then."

She went back to detangling his quills and scrubbing his head, "You know, you'll have to get used to them since you'll be staying here now"

"I didn't make that decision," he tried to sound more serious, but his voice turned into a purr and clicking noise when she scratched his head again. He looked a bit surprised by the noise. Before Maddie could say anything, he looked her dead in the eyes, "Do not call me cute again."

She smiled at him, "Fine, I won't. You're definitely a hedgehog like Sonic though. Also where would you stay if not here? This is the safest place from GUN. Any weird energy outputs, and we just can blame it on Sonic. Unless you want to live outside. During the winter. It gets very cold here." She knew if he was like Sonic, he hated being cold.

Shadow shivered at the thought, "Fine ... why you insist after I almost killed your husband, though, is still strange. You're all strange" He really was starting to think they all had brain damage.

"You're not a bad kid, Shadow. You're just a teenager. A very traumatized one, I assume, from what I've been told. You deserve a second chance. Besides, Sonic wouldn't forgive us if we didn't try. He could have easily ended up like you."

"I guess ..." It was clearly going to take some work to get him to feel like he deserves kindness. He just rested his head on the side of the tub while she finished washing his back, then she let him do the rest.

Once finished, she wrapped him in a big towel and placed him back by the sink. She put a proper splint on his leg and blowdried and brushed him as much as he would allow before bringing him downstairs where Tom was finishing up dinner. Tails and Knuckles were sitting at the table. Sonic had finished telling them what happened and to be nice to Shadow (mostly aimed at Knuckles), and they agreed. They were also glad Shadow was alive. Knuckles commented that he deserved a second chance like he had gotten. Although he wanted a rematch once the black hedgehog was healed.

When Maddie walked into the dining room still holding him, Tom couldn't help but laugh, "Wow, he gets even fluffier than Sonic does."

She smiled at him, "Right? And look at these cute little ear tufts too. He's more Maine Coon cat than he is hedgehog."

Shadow scowled as one of his ears twitched, "Why does everyone keep comparing me to a cat." Maria used to do it too. He never understood.

She ignored him and sat him down on a chair beside Tails. Sonic ran up and put a stool under his leg. Then he suddenly grabbed one of Shadow's hands.

"Well, these don't help the cat comparisons. jeez, these claws are crazy sharp. We're filing those later so I don't get shredded in my sleep. Do you want some gloves though? We're usually pretty sensitive about our hands being bare. We can make you some new ones."

"No I'm fine, I don't really care. Just stop touching me." He shook his hand out of Sonics, a little overwhelmed at all the attention on him.

"You literally cuddled with me the whole ride home." Sonic teased him.

Before Shadow could respond to him, Tails suddenly was much closer to him. Too close. "Hi Shadow. Good to see you're alive. How do your shoes work? Do you want me to fix them up? They look so cool." He had been inspecting Shadow's shoes that Sonic put by the door earlier.

Shadow looked surprised and even more overwhelmed. But slowly, he tilted his head, "Why do you want to?"

Knuckles caught on to Shadow's body language and pulled Tails back properly into his seat, and gave him a look.

"Oh, sorry," he laughed, his tails swishing behind him. "And I dont know, they look important to you, I didn't see any power source though, how do you hover?"

"They are, a friend made them for me. I power them with my chaos energy. I still don't understand why you want to help me though." Kindness was definitely going to take a while to accept.

Tails just smiled at him, "Well, Sonic trusts you, so I will too. And you saved us all. So you can't be that bad." Knuckles nodded in agreement.

Shadow just blinked at him, "I kicked you and threw a car at you."

Knuckles laughed, "That was nothing for me and my muscles. Besides, when I first met the fox, he hit me with a police car. It's practically tradition at this point."

Shadow looked surprised, "why?"

"I was trying to kill the less impressive hedgehog." He laughed as he said this and pointed at Sonic. "The fox was protecting him."

"Dude, just say our names. You know our names. And that's nothing. Tom shot me when we first met." Sonic finally took a seat on the other side of Shadow.

Shadow just slowly looked over at Tom, who was carrying some food in.

"With a tranquilizer gun! No bullets. Jeez. Sonic, please stop leaving that part out."

Sonic just laughed.

"The fuck is wrong with your family Sonic." Shadow finally commented, he looked bewildered.

They all laughed despite his use of language again. That was a conversation for a different day. Tom put a hand on Shadows shoulder, "Well, maybe now you can see why I dont hold a grudge for you punching me. I'm pretty used to this kind of chaos."

Shadow still thought they were all crazy, but he stopped fighting it. Maddie got him to eat a little pasta, and Shadow just observed them all laughing and talking with one another.

Sonic finally spoke to Shadow again after a bit when he noticed him looking lost, ear twitching again as he was listening to everyone. "Oh, uh, Shads. I noticed you tilt your head whenever you're confused about something. That also doesn't help the cute thing. Even I think that's a bit adorable. Why is your ear doing that?"

Shadow scowled and swatted at him when he tried to touch his ear, "Stop calling me cute, I am not cute. I am the ultimate lifeform."

Maddie burst out laughing before stopping, "Oh my god, oh. ... Tom, I think he's serious. Of course you are honey."

Shadow growled, but she didn't seem phased. "You know, if you are the ultimate lifeform, then you would be the best at everything. Including being adorable. Yes?"

Shadow slowly relaxed and stared at her for a moment, seriously contemplating her words. "I suppose I can't argue with that."

Sonic huffed and faked being offended, "Are you implying that you think he's cuter than me? Mom."

Knuckles laughed loudly, "Well, he clearly is the superior hedgehog."

Sonic looked actually offended now, and everyone laughed. Even Shadow smiled a little.

After dinner, Shadow got Knuckle's attention and slowly handed him the missing emerald, "I was told this belongs to you."

Knuckles looked beyond surprised and thrilled, "The last one! It is not lost forever after all! I will visit Wade tomorrow and reform the Master Emerald." He went to hug Shadow.

Shadow quickly put his hands up, "No, no, broken ribs. Hug Sonic instead in my place"

Before Sonic could register what was happening, he was pulled into a bone crushing hug. Literally you could hear them cracking. Sonic groaned. "Please let me go, I'm not dying like this."

Knuckles laughed and put him down, "Don't be so dramatic blue hedgehog. This is the best news we have had all week! We can continue our pact to protect the emerald. Thank you, Shadow."

Shadow gave him a small smile before Sonic interrupted, "What you can't call me by my name. Why are you so weird."

Before Knuckles could respond, Shadow got off the chair, using it to support his weight so he could keep his leg off the ground. He ruffled Sonic's quills and then flicked his forehead, "He probably does it because you get so worked up. You're an easy target."

"Wow, rude. I am not. ... wait" Sonic suddenly realized how much shorter Shadow looked. He grinned ear to ear, "Oh my god, am I taller than you? Aren't you older than me?"

Shadow scowled, "Absolutely not ... okay, maybe. Barely."

Sonic just laughed as Shadow started to pout. "I told you pouting also makes you look cute. Especially combined with the ear twitch."

Shadow covered his ears and growled at Sonic and Knuckles, who was also laughing loudly. Even Tails laughed a little.

Maddie and Tom interrupted them before the bickering got any louder, especially since Shadow was starting to spark. "Okay, enough picking on each other for one night, go settle in upstairs. Knuckles carry Shadow. ... gently."

"I will make sure not to make his injuries worse."

Shadow protested, but he couldn't exactly outrun anyone right now and had to accept his fate. Once upstairs, everyone talked a bit and played some board games. Sonic and Shadow immediately were competitive. Sonic also kept his word and forced Shadow to let him file down his nails a little bit. Just enough they weren't so sharp at the tips.

When it was time for bed, Sonic insisted that Shadow share his, especially when he found out Shadow had never slept on an actual bed before. Shadow was pretty sure Sonic just wanted to keep a hold of him so he wouldn't chaos control himself out of there in the middle of the night. He did consider it, but he also felt safe and warm for the first time in a very long time. And he let himself finally rest.

___________________

(Little note, the sneezing thing I got from someone talking about how in one of the earlier sonic games, it was strongly suggested that sonic had some sort of danger sense. It manifested as him sneezing right before something was about to hurt/kill him. I thought that was really funny and cute so I added it in here)

[idkwhatever580]

I threw it away

Masterlist<< I mostly write Natasha romanoff but if you have a request I’ll be happy to write Regina.

Pairings: Regina George x reader

Prompt: weight had never been a tricky thing for y/n. Until she started dating Regina.

Warnings: bad relationships with food/weight

A/N: idk I wanted to write something like this to show that an ED or a relationship with weight can change even when you’re older and not just at girlhood i guess? Just remember that you are so perfect and loved.

Y/n’s pov

I started dating Regina during the summer between our junior and senior year.

I used to be friends with Janis. That is until I found out what she did to Regina.

I don’t care if a girl is your mortal enemy. You don’t mess around with her biggest insecurities. Even if it’s what she flaunts the most.

Especially not weight. Those Kalteen bars were horrible of janis to do.

I slowly just got “busier” over time. And I eventually just stopped talking to Janis all together. I didn’t want to surround myself with that energy.

So after Regina got hit by that bus I started visiting her and trying to make it up to her.

It might not have happened if I just told her what they did.

But then again, we might not have started dating. So back to now.

I basically have been living at Regina’s place. I spend the night a lot, but if I go home then Gina is always picking me up when I can go.

My parents don’t care much. They say that I’m allowed to live my life. Thank goodness they’re laid back. Of course not as much as Mrs George but they believe that as long as I’m not getting drunk, high, or pregnant then I’m good.

I’m in Gina’s room and she gets up and says

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

I get up to go with her.

“Okay!”

She’s like the black cat and I’m like the golden retriever. But we work really well together.

She walks in and does her business and then after she washes her hands and all, she decides to head over to the scale.

I’ve never used it. But she uses it all the time.

She breaks me out of my thoughts when she thinks out loud

“Yes! Back down to my ideal 120 pounds” (about 54 kilograms?)

I frown. I’ve never heard her say her weight before. And I say

“Congrats baby! Was that from all the kalteen bars?”

She nods her head and says

“I finally worked all the weight off”

I smile and kiss her and say

“That’s great. Why don’t you go tell your mom?”

She shrugs and says

“Eh. It doesnt matter. I’m gonna go back to the room okay?”

I nod my head and say

“I’m gonna pee”

She doesn’t stay since I’m a bit pee shy still so when she leaves I quickly run to the scale and check my weight.

Definitely not Regina’s ideal weight.

Suddenly I feel this rush of guilt fall over me. I walk back to her bed and crawl in with her. As she scrolls through her phone, I get lost in my thoughts.

If Regina tells me I’m perfect the way I am then why would she lie? Obviously she wants to be a certain weight. And if it’s her ideal weight then she clearly wants me to be that way too. I need to lose more weight. Maybe I’ll start a diet. That’s good. I’ll start a diet and just won’t tell Gina until I hit her desired weight and then she’ll think I’m perfect for real.

“What’s on your mind?”

I snap out of it and shake my head

“Nothing! Just watching videos over your shoulder”

She squints at me and says

“Alright. You know if you need anything you can tell me right?”

I nod my head.

Then all of a sudden Mrs George comes into the room and says

“Hey girls! I just wanted to let you know that I made my world famous cookies and they’re cooling in the kitchen right now if you wanted to grab them while they’re warm.”

I smile and Regina gets up so I follow.

She grabs one and says

“Aren’t you gonna eat one?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not hungry.”

She hums and says

“But you love my mom’s cookies. You always eat a few”

I just now realized how much I eat of those and get slightly flustered so I say

“I’m just not hungry right now”

She nods her head and eats her cookie.

They do smell heavenly. But I must stay strong.

We head back upstairs after Gina finishes her cookie and I go on my phone to look up good diet routines. I find a decent one to start with.

If I don’t like it then I’ll do another one.

So I text my mom and ask her if she can get a few things the next time she goes to the store and she agrees.

Then I turn around and yawn.

“Y/n are you sleepy?”

I nod my head and she says

“Take a nap baby. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I smile and let my eyes flutter closed and Regina whispers into my ear

“My perfect girl”

I smile at her even though it’s fake. I don’t feel perfect anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been a few weeks on this diet and it’s hard. It’s hard for me to reject a bunch of the foods I love.

Thankfully Mrs George also makes some keto versions of her food every now and then so I can eat those.

I have a routine now. Every time I go to the bathroom I check my weight right after. I check my weight in the mornings and in the evenings. But only at Regina’s house since I am here all the time.

We’re watching tv on her bed and I say

“I gotta pee. I’ll be right back”

Gina nods and says

“Kk”

I do my business and wash my hands. But it isn’t until I go to where her scale is that I find it’s not there.

I look around the room and I don’t see it anywhere.

“Gina?”

I say loud enough for her to hear me.

“Yeah?”

Once I know I have her attention I say

“Where’s the scale?”

“Oh.. I threw it away”

After she says that I walk quickly to the room and say

“What?! What do you mean you threw it away?”

She shrugs as always and says

“I threw it away”

“Why would you do that? I need to see my weight.”

She gets up and comes to me and says

“I threw it away because I noticed that you’ve been doing this thing where you check your weight all the time.”

“Well you check yours all the time too!”

For some reason this is like a huge deal to me. I just want to be perfect for her. She grabs my hand and sits me down and says

“I know. I realized how bad that can be for my mental health. So I decided that I was going to lose the weight from those nasty kalteen bars and then start fresh. I, of course, have been having a healthy balance between my food intake. But it’s not a huge deal if I lose weight or gain weight. As long as I’m healthy.”

I look at her and say

“Oh. That’s nice.”

She nods her head and continues

“I noticed that once I stopped, you started. And I didn’t want that for you. You have never had to worry about your weight before because it was never a bad thing in your house. Most girls would call you lucky. And I don’t want you to start thinking bad about yourself now”

I frown and say

“But you said the ideal weight is 120?” (54)

She sighs and says

“I said that wrong. I wanted to get back to my baseline and start taking care of myself properly. The only reason I lost that weight in the first place was because I didn’t want to feel like Janis had that hold on my body anymore. If I was gonna gain weight it was going to be for myself. And because of myself. Not for anyone else and not because of anyone else.”

I nod my head in understanding and she puts one of her hands on my cheek and the other on my waist and says

“I’m sorry you ever felt less than perfect because of a stupid slip up I made. Your body is literally so beautiful.”

I doubt her until she says things that most people think are ugly

“From your beautiful stretch marks. Right down to the cellulite in your legs. It’s all beautiful. Perfect. And honestly. You’re so healthy. You work out. You’re strong. You have a good balance with food. Well, you did before you started whatever diet thing you have going on. And you are literally like a puzzle piece for me. The way we can cuddle perfectly. I love your soft tummy because I can nap on it and be so comfortable. I love your ass and tits because they make great handles for… sexy times…”

I giggle and she continues.

“I love how each and every scar and divot and bump and mark on your body tells a story. It makes you, you. And I would change that for the world. So I threw the scale away. If I’m starting new. Then you are too.”

I sigh as I get a fluttery feeling in my heart and stomach and I hug her. I finally say

“Thank you. Thank you so much”

She shakes her head and says

“No thank you. You’re the one who convinced me I’m perfect the way I am. And now it’s my turn to do the same.”

I pull away and she says

“Why don’t we go downstairs. I think my mom is making us a snack”

I smile and nod my head.

We head downstairs and Mrs George is making snickerdoodles and I smell the air and say

“It smells delicious!”

She smiles and says

“I made some keto ones for your diet y/n!”

She pulls out one singular cookie that was set apart from the others and I say

“Oh. No thanks. I’m not gonna diet anymore. My body is perfect the way it is.”

She smiles and nods her head affirming that and then hands each of us a cookie that is still warm and soft from the oven.

I hum when I take the first bite and Gina does it at the same time as me so we end up giggling from it.

This time. I eat two cookies and Gina does the same.

Then Gina asks

“Mom? What did you do with that other cookie?”

She turns around and says

“Oh! I threw it in the trash.”

Gina nods and turns to me. I smile at her and say

“Slay”

We love a good parallel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all liked it! It’s my first time writing Regina George. But I’m thinking of writing a prequel to this and doing how Janis and y/n had their fall out. And when y/n started being friends with Regina. Let me know what y’all think!

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish

[flemingsgirl]

PART 1: Building bridges and boundaries

It’s an always kinda type- chapter one - first glances, lasting moments

Back in 2020, Jessie transfers to Chelsea, her first professional season, away from home and friends. But what if she wins friends in this special club, a new family. Follow Jessie and Y/N on their journey through friendship, rivalry and maybe something more. How circumstances change their dynamic and their growth as individuals.

Tw: full of fluffy (the first chapters), heartache/ break, angst (somewhat along the line, I'll tell you if time is ripe:))

AN: Here I am! Back from the dead. Hope you enjoy this story about Jessie, as much as I like daydreaming about it. Let me know your thoughts 🙈

“Let’s welcome our newest signings!” Emma’s voice rang out through the packed meeting room, her energy lifting the atmosphere. “Until now, they’ve trained individually with our coaches, and some of them have already met during those sessions. But today, they’re official Blues.” The room erupted into cheers as the new players stepped forward to introduce themselves.

Jessie Fleming, the young Canadian star, was among them. When it was her turn, she gave a shy smile and introduced herself, taking a seat next to Y/N.

Y/N couldn’t help but glance at the woman next to her. What had brought her here that still required an introduction? Jessie Fleming—Canada’s brightest talent, the one they all whispered about in hushed tones. The rivalry between Canada and the U.S. ran deep, but now, it was time to become teammates. The Canadian’s freckled face turned toward Y/N, her hand outstretched.

“Y/N,” the American replied, shaking her hand firmly but with a softness that matched her smile.

“Y/L/N, right? I’ve heard of you. We’ve played each other quite a few times,” Jessie said, her accent adding a bit of warmth to the already friendly exchange.

“That’s right, but I thought now, as teammates,” Y/N shrugged lightly, her tone relaxed, trying to break any tension.

Jessie chuckled softly. “You’re right. I’m Jessie,” she responded, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You know, Jess,” Y/N began, leaning in just a little, “It’s okay, right? I really want to get to know you. After all those games we played, I can honestly say I love your style of play. Watching you is fulfilling—you’ve got so much talent.”

“Thank you. Likewise. You’re tough to play against,” Jessie replied, her lips curling into a shy smile, her cheeks tinted with a soft blush.

“But that’s the fun part, right?” Y/N grinned, her eyes glimmering. “I appreciate it!”

Before the conversation could go further, a familiar voice broke in. “Psst.” Sam Kerr’s voice was filled with mischief as she turned toward the younger players. She gave Y/N a teasing wink before facing forward again.

“That’s… Sam Kerr, huh?” Y/N started.

Jessie cut in, her voice light but filled with admiration. “Yep. Quite the impressive player.”

Later, after the meeting wrapped up, Emma called everyone onto the field to kick off the new season. “Form pairs!” she shouted, the players quickly pairing up. Y/N turned to find Erin, her usual partner on the field, but before she could, Jessie tapped her lightly on the shoulder, offering a shy smile. “Can we maybe… pair up?”

“Usually, it’s Erin and me,” Y/N said, glancing back at the Scottish player, who was already moving off to partner with someone else. “But I think it’s okay. Let’s go for it.”

Jessie smiled brighter now, picking up a ball and finding a spot for them to start the drill. “So, London—what brought you here?”

“Well, not the weather, that’s for sure,” Y/N said with a playful grin.

“Compared to California? Definitely not,” Jessie agreed, her eyes sparkling with humour. Y/N laughed.

“Honestly, I see this team as a chance. A platform to grow, maybe win a few trophies, and—hopefully—make new friends,” the Canadian states.

“The team really is nice,” Y/N assured.

“Everyone seems really welcoming.” Jessie responded thoughtfully

Y/N nodded, Jessie glances out over the pitch. “Tell me more,” she said, eager to get to know the team better.

“Well, Erin’s a bit… strange. I’d recommend staying away from her.” Y/N’s voice carried a teasing tone, and as if on cue, Erin shot her a mock glare from across the field, which only made Y/N laugh harder. “Told you.” She chuckled and looked back at Jessie, who was grinning.

“I can see it,” Jessie replied with a nod. “She sounds like quite the character.”

“She is,” Y/N confirmed, her tone fond. “But you know, she’s a gem. She’s the one who answered the phone every time I called her at weird hours of the night. She’s always there.”

“That’s a true friend,” Jessie remarked, her voice soft.

Y/N smiled at her, feeling the warmth of the conversation settle between them. “Yeah, for sure. Then there’s Sam. She’s one of a kind, like everyone on this team. In the last year, I’ve learned so much from her. She’s like an older sister to me—teasing, challenging, but always having my back. I love her, but all platonic, of course,” she added with a slight, nervous chuckle.

“Sounds like you’ve got a really strong bond with them,” Jessie said, her eyes softening.

Y/N’s smile faltered for a moment, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Yeah, I had to leave my family and friends behind when I moved here for competition, for change. But in the end, I found my people. They’re my family now.”

Jessie looked at her, understanding flashing in her eyes. “I get it,” she said quietly. “I hope to find that here too.”

Y/N met Jessie’s gaze with a warm smile. “Of course, Fleming. You’re not being left out.” She shifted slightly, then added, “I can show you around, the good side of London. I think you’d like it.”

Jessie hesitated for a moment, then smiled, her cheeks slightly pink. “I don’t want to force you.”

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked,” Y/N replied, her tone firm but gentle. “I’m an honest person, Jess.”

As they continued their drill, Niamh appeared, offering a thumbs-up to confirm their plans. “Right after training, we’re all going out. You in?”

Jessie glanced at the ground, her fingers fiddling nervously with the ring on her hand as heat crept up her neck. She nodded, agreeing with a soft smile.

After training, the trio found themselves wandering through the streets of London, Y/N leading them to hidden gems.

“You know the hidden spots, huh?” Niamh asked, her voice curious as she looked around.

“Erin showed me around, and I guess you could thank her and Millie for it,” Y/N said with a grin.

“You made it, huh?” Niamh’s voice held a teasing tone. “You’re officially with the cool kids now.”

Y/N laughed. “More like the older, noisy sisters,” she teased, giving Niamh a playful shove on the shoulder. “Let’s grab some food. I’m starving.”

Later, seated in a cozy Italian restaurant, the trio relaxed into conversation, their laughter filling the air. “What are your first impressions of training?” Y/N asked, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“The squad seems nice,” Jessie answered, a note of genuine warmth in her voice.

“I agree,” Niamh chimed in. “The staff, too. They seem like a good group.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair. “So, who are you looking forward to playing with most?”

Jessie’s eyes twinkled as she thought. “I think Sam and Magda would be fun to play with.”

“Ah, I see,” Niamh mused, “Can’t wait to play with Pernille, or you, of course.”

Jessie’s eyes flicked to Y/N, a subtle shift in her posture as a small smile danced on her lips.

Y/N noticed it, but before she could comment, Niamh leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “So, Fleming. What are your thoughts on the team?”

Jessie’s cheeks turned a shade darker, and she quickly turned her gaze away, fumbling with her hands under the table. “I’m happy with everyone,” she said quietly, her voice soft. “I couldn’t choose, really. They all seem amazing.”

“Sweet answer,” Niamh teased. “You’re definitely a heartwarming person. I’d love to have a friend like you.” She reached across the table, giving Jessie’s cheek a playful poke.

Jessie’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and she shifted awkwardly in her seat, avoiding their eyes. “Well… he’s not my type,” she whispered, barely audible.

Niamh’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?” she asked, clearly puzzled.

Y/N glanced between them, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I think we’re getting off track here,” she said, laughing. “Any thoughts on lunch?”

After a long, laughter-filled evening, the three of them finally parted ways, heading home for the night. Y/N drove Niamh and Jessie home. She looked over at Jessie as they stopped in front of their apartment building. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “you’re on my way to training anyway. Let’s take turns driving.”

Jessie hesitated for a moment, but Niamh cut in. “Sounds good,” she agreed quickly.

Y/N smiled, giving them both a thumb-up. “Til tomorrow.”

As she drove back to her apartment, she couldn’t help but think about the night—and the spark of something that felt like it was just beginning between her and Jessie.

[takusan-no-ai]

You need a lollipop

PAIRING: Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is a workaholic, and his girlfriend Ellen will force him to take a break.

“I saw this one SUPER cute nail polish online yesterday!” Ruby said while walking with her friends around campus. It was break time and so the four friends, Ruby, Monna, Lynn, and Ellen, decided to just walk and talk outside.

“Really? Send it to me later…,” Ellen replied. Monna and Lynn were having a mini convo of their own, and everyone was happy. Key word, was.

A large group of boys, likely in the track team as Ellen noted, came gunning straight for them. The girls were able to dodge, but the boy in front of them with his face in a book didn’t. And so he crashed right on top of Ellen, who was too tired to dodge again.

They both rubbed their foreheads, while Ellen’s friends were giggling in the background. She looked at them confused for a moment, and then she looked at the boy straddling her; (Y/N), sits in the seat at the front of class, voted most likely to be an overachiever. She also kinda liked him. Not a lot. Only a little. Really, just a little…

Her friends were aware of this, and only helped her up after the poor boy started freaking out about it. “Don’t worry, it’s those jocks fault, not yours. Besides, everyone else is fine.” Moona calmed the situation down naturally.

Ellen didn’t make eye contact with (Y/N), her face starting to get too warm for comfort after the whole ordeal. And she just knew her friends would tease her endlessly; the thought alone made Ellen puff out her cheeks.

Some days had passed since then, with Ellen’s eyes always drifting over towards (Y/N) during class. It wasn’t until she saw him especially tired that she grew worried of his health. Though she’d never admit it directly.

He was sitting at his desk, eyes heavy with bags, hair messy, and the tips of his fingers red from the hard grip of his pencil as he scribbled down unintelligible notes. Ellen walked over to him, her tail swaying slightly back and forth. She looked around the room, making sure her friends weren’t watching.

“Hey.” She said

He shook slightly, immediately turning around to look at her. “So-sorry. How long have you been there?” (Y/N) asked. Ellen rolled her eyes and handed him a lollipop. He made a confused expression.

“You clearly need one.” She thrusted it into his hand and walked away. Before she could flee the scene he grabbed her hand and forced eye contact with her.

“Thank you. My name’s (Y/N), what’s yours?” He asked, letting go of her.

“…hmm…Ellen.”

From then on the relationship progressed smoothly, and before Ellen knew it (her friends already betted on it happening) they both started dating.

Of course, Ellen still took note of his constant over working habits; she honestly never understood it. Why didn’t he sleep more often? Sleep is great. It recovers energy, can give sweet dreams, and lets you skip hours of the day. What wasn’t there to love about it?!

So, to keep him from being in an early grave, Ellen took it upon herself to graciously expend her own energy and keep him away from work. Karaoke, skipping class, listening to concerts, even just sleeping. It didn’t always work, but she did notice a change in habits with (Y/N).

He was more willing to take breaks, and would often text Ellen about his excitement to spend more time with his girlfriend.

“Hey pup, ready for a movie night?” He asked cheerfully; his eyes were burning bright, appearance clean enough where he could be mistaken for a celeb, and a cute smile to boot.

Ellen puffed out her cheeks, this was getting too much. Love was too energy draining, especially with (Y/N); her heart kept pounding every time she’s with him, which makes her exhausted, but she likes it so she stays, which makes her really exhausted. It was a never ending cycle. And yet she still loved it.

Ellen sat down next to him, placing her tail on his lap so he could hug it. “Yeah, movie nights are only fun when I’m with you.”

- Fin

[qhazomb]

so some recent art by @we-cool-beans reminded me of this one "sharing a body" au i've thought about.

i've talked about my other one where it takes place post-canon, with the temporary body-sharing happening in order to save gordon from a life-threatening disease he developed (likely from all that radioactive raw sewage...), but this is one that takes place during canon.

(this is using my headcanon that benry's true form is just a big glowing cloud of rainbow cosmic energy containing a consciousness).

after gordon's hand gets chopped off, and then benry realizes humans cannot in fact regrow limbs, he's not exactly jazzed over the fact that he got gordon perma-fucked up. he's also not a big fan of the fact that he can't un-fuck him up. benry doesn't know how to make someone else's body regrow limbs, just the body that he's in!

....so then he gets the idea "oh i'll just pop into gordon's body to fix it, then."

so benry abandons his own body somewhere (not important, he can just make a new one later), and slips into gordon's when everybody's asleep. when he gets there, he originally intended on just fixing gordon's hand and then leaving, but holy shit this guy is a LOT more beat up than benry thought. this hev suit's kinda sucks at being armor, huh. there's new wounds that are looking pretty rough, and benry also notes evidence of old injuries that don't look like they healed the way they're supposed to. he's got a looooot of work to do.

when the science team all wake up, they're all extremely surprised to see that gordon is no longer down a hand. the others of course make light of it, but gordon himself is feeling a weird mix of relief and what the fuck over the fact that he just... regrew a limb. like a fucking lizard or something. the rest of the team try coming up with theories on why this happened- "Perhaps the hazardous materials you've been swimming in have given you mutant powers!" "Are you sure you're actually human?" "Maybe Black Mesa's been secretly experimenting on you without you knowing it."

gordon of course does not like any of these theories.

at one point gordon gets a cut on his hand, an sees that his blood is a LOT darker than it should be, which freaks him out further. and then, again, when that cut heals up pretty much right before his eyes, he's not sure if he should be thankful or freaking the fuck out over it.

gordon also doesn't like the fact that benry's been missing again for A While, which normally he'd be thankful for, but given the current circumstances, it's putting him extra on edge.

gordon finally finds out both why he has a hand again and where benry went when he has a big emotional outburst... that's accompanied by sweet voice.

"I didn't know you could use the Black Mesa Sweet Voice, Gordon!"

gordon insists that he can't, and his panic is rising as more coloured orbs spill from his mouth (which tommy comfirms means gordon is panicking. bubby makes a comment like "Yeah, we can tell.")

it's then that benry, who has been just been staying quiet the whole time, finally speaks up in gordon's mind. "hey, calm down maybe?"

obviously this just freaks gordon out even more, albiet in a different way.

when gordon says he can hear benry in his fucking head, there's definitely some jokes in there from the team about gordon hearing voices now/being haunted again, pff.

eventually benry's able to explain himself (the best he can, at least). he's in here because gordon couldn't heal that good on his own, and benry couldn't heal him without being in here. and he's staying here because gordon's weak lil baby human body is just SO easy to break, like damn, so benry's gotta stick around to make sure it stays put together. he's the maintenance man, now.

gordon of course HIGHLY objects to this, but it's not like he can force this weird cosmic energy being out of his body.

(and though he's not saying it out loud, he does appreciate how all his usual aches and pains have been completely gone ever since benry started this "maintenance" work.)

gordon does at least get benry to agree to get the fuck out of him once they're all out of black mesa, though.

and then through the rest of their journey, understandings happen, and bonding happens. i've imagined one point where gordon is feeling Overwhelmed with Emotions and having a bad time because of it, when benry tells him to just, sing it all out with sweet voice. gordon begrudingly does so, and then... actually does feel better afterwords. turns out sweet voice is a really good way to get Big Feelings out. huh.

now the thing that we-cool-bean's art specifically reminded me of, is when they get to xen. benry obviously isn't here to be the big bad final boss, thus the nihilanth is still kickin' around, and proving to be just as dangerous as xenrey. during the fight, benry gives gordon a lil power-up: RAINBOW DEATH MODE

(gordon doesn't get freaky shape-shifting like benry does when in RAINBOW DEATH MODE, he just gets glowy. there's extra orange in there as that's gordon's life energy colour signature!)

i picture gordon getting to land the final blow on the nihilanth, managing to get up on its head, prying open that noggin' to expose the crystal... but then being unsure what to do next.

benry yells in his mind "song of death at it!"

"How do I do that!?"

"just think about how much you wanna kill this guy and SING!"

the 'singing' that comes out of gordon's mouth sounds less like the angelic theramin notes benry sings, and more like death metal screaming, but hey it gets the job done all the same!

in the end, even after benry's vacated the freeman, it soon becomes aparent that gordon is... not entirely human anymore. having benry spend so much time hanging out within him, and then giving that RAINBOW DEATH MODE boost at the end fully cemented gordon's own connection to the cosmic ether, which is what sustains benry. now it's sustaining gordon, too.

...aaaand gordon's gonna need some lessons on how to keep from spitting out sweet voice when he gets a bit too emotional while in public :B

[spence-whore]

You are in love

Spencer Agnew x reader

A/N this was inspired by you are in love by Taylor Swift. Yes, I’m a big swiftie lmao. This isn’t so focused on the lyrics or anything specifically in the song. I just thought the idea of him realizing he was in love with his partner was really cute. This is gonna be a really short one but it’s cute. Simple but sweet:) also, forewarning. I do not get to heavily edit this, so you will have to overlook the typos. I have to go study for my exam tomorrow now. Hope you all have had/are having a good day<3

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Spencer realized he is falling harder and harder each day. It was so cliche but he felt like a teenager falling in love for the first time. He honestly felt like there was no time or use for things like this during this period of his life but then he met you. You were new two years ago to the cast. You were hired on in the art department and had to help Spencer out one day with something for one of his characters. It was like love at first sight for him, as cheesy as it is to say. You just had such a carefree energy. You were also always so happy. You were like a big cup of coffee. Anyone who spent any time around you was in the best mood and ready to kick the days ass.

“Hey loser.” You said as you flopped down in a chair beside his desk. It was the end of the day and usually, the two of you would go to his place and order food then watch something or play a game. Tonight, you two were going over to Shayne and Courtney’s home for a little celebration. “You ready to head out?” You asked giving him a soft smile.

Just your smile alone flooded his chest with the craziest butterflies. He felt heat flood to his chest and he smiled and nodded his head at you. “Yep, we’re going to Courtney and Shayne’s house, aren’t we?” He asked while turning his computer off and grabbing his stuff.

“Yes, I’m gonna go get absolutely plastered and you are gonna have to take care of me for the reeeeest of the night.” You said jokingly, throwing your arm over his shoulder.

Just you touching the man sent sparks flying throughout his body. “Yeah, right. You will take one sip of a drink, complain about it not being good, then give it to me to finish.” He said glaring at you.

The two of you headed out of the office hand in hand, to your car. You were in your head thinking about some of the stuff you had to get done tomorrow and realized someone was burning holes into the side of your head. You looked out of your corner of your eye and seen Spencer staring at you.

“Whatcha looking at, pretty boy?” You asked giving his hand a small squeeze.

Spencer tried laughing it off, slightly embarrassed that you caught him staring at you. He shot his eyes forward then glanced back over at you again, “Something beautiful.”

The two of you finally reached his car and got in to make your way to Courtney and Shayne’s home. There wasn’t much talking. You just played music over the aux while zoning out. Spencer could do nothing but stare at you. There was just something different about you tonight. He didn’t know if it was a certain way you had done your hair or the outfit you were wearing or what. He just felt like he was staring at the graphics in a new video game or something. He couldn’t get over how ethereal you are.

You finally made it to the party and started greeting people as the two of you walked in. You ended up splitting up, as he went with Shayne and Tommy and you went with Courtney, Kimmy, and Amanda.

The three of you stood for a while talking whenever Amanda noticed a certain someone kept glancing at you.

“If someone turns his head to look at you anymore, his neck is gonna break.” Amanda whispered while nodding her head in Spencer’s direction.

“I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen him so.. love struck before.” Courtney said giggling. “Ever since the two of you have been hanging out, he just seems so much happier. You just bring so much light to him.”

You started shaking your head while smiling, “No, no. It’s not me that has caused that. He’s just happier in general.” You explained while staring down at your drink and stirring it.

“Y/N. I have never seen that boy blush before until he started talking to you. You are like the sunshine to him.” Amanda said softly smiling at you and you couldn’t help but to blush.

“He honestly makes me really happy. Every other partner I’ve had in the past, I’ve never felt so comfortable with like I do with him. He is like my best friend.” You said while pushing your hair behind your ear.

Courtney just starts giggling while looking towards Spencer, “Literally every time he looks over here, his face lights up. It’s so freaking cute.”

Angela and Arasha walked up, so the five of you started talking about work and Courtney and Shayne.

Over at Shayne, Spencer, and Tommy’s table, they were drilling him about you and giving him shit.

“If you look at Y/N anymore, your eyes are going to burst of your head Spencer.” Tommy said while laughing at him.

“I wasn’t look at them, what are you talking about?” Spencer said while shaking his head and tried to change the topic to a new movie that is coming out. Of course, this didn’t work because he glanced over at Y/N and it was like his brain went to mush. They were standing directly under a light, so it was like a spotlight was on them. They just looked perfect. His words kept getting jumbled together and he kept stuttering. He finally just stopped trying to talk and stared at them for a minute. All he could think about was wanting to go over and kiss them. He was just so enamored by them.

Shayne was looking at him smiling because he knew exactly what it was he was feeling but he didn’t say anything. He knew that feeling because that is exactly how he felt whenever he started falling for Courtney.

It was suddenly like Spencer’s brain just broke down even more than it all made sense to him. All he could think was, holy shit I am in love with Y/N. His chest felt like it was on fire and he started shaking due to nerves.

“Are you okay dude?” Shayne asked noticing that the guy looked like he was about to start crying.

“No. I’m fucked.” Spencer whispered to himself before he chugged the rest of his whiskey.

“What’s wrong?” Tommy asked aloud, looking at the two in front of him.

“I think I’m in love with them.” Spencer mumbled while just staring at the table in front of him. Tommy and Shayne lost it and started shouting nonsense while acting like teenage girls. They never thought they would see Spencer like this because he was always someone who shut down his feelings. They couldn’t get over the fact that Spencer had finally found his person.

Y/N caught on to the two freaking out while their partner sat, looking like he was having a meltdown at their table. You stayed at the table staring at the three till you noticed Spencer was visibly tearing up and starting to cry.

“Oh, shit. I’ll be back, I think something’s wrong with Spencer.” Y/N said before jumping up to go grab Spencer and walk outside. You grabbed a water bottle while on the way and approached their table. “Hey boys, sorry to break up the party for a few minutes. I’m gonna grab curly headed goober here for a second.” You said giving Tommy and Shayne a soft smile.

Spencer just stood up and walked towards the back door that lead to the backyard. You followed behind him and shut the door behind him.

“Hey you, are you okay?” You asked, sitting down beside Spencer on the swing. You placed a hand on his thigh and started rubbing your thumb across his leg then handed him the water in your other hand. “Thought maybe you could use some water. You know, gotta stay hydrated.” You said whispering.

Spencer forced a smile back to you while grabbing the water then shook his head while getting a sip of it. “I’m fucking terrified.” He said while staring at the ground.

“Why?” You asked, taking your hand off his leg and wrapping your arm around his shoulder then resting your hand on the back of his head. You started lightly scratching the back of his head while staring at him, hoping maybe this would calm him down. Little did you know, the little signs of affection you were giving him were driving him absolutely insane. He just wanted to shout that he was in love with you.

You turned a little in the swing to face him but kept your hand on the back of his head. You were giving him a few minutes to try and calm down before asking anymore questions. Out of nowhere’s, Spencer just blurts, “I’m scared because of this.” It caught you off guard. All you could think was, I fucked this up. He’s going to break up with me.

Spencer felt you tense up and all he could do was laugh. “I’m not meaning it in a negative way. Actually, maybe a little. I’m just terrified I’m going to screw this up.” Spencer explained, finally looking over at you.

“Spencer, you could never-“ He immediately cuts you off. “I’m in love with you. I mean I am head over heels, infatuated with you. The second I wake up in the morning, you’re the first thing on my mind. The second I hear news that is exciting, I want to run to find you and tell you. The second I accomplish something, I want to find you and tell you. You give me a reason to be excited about the world, Y/N. I know we’ve only been together for almost eight months but god, I am so in love with you and just want to experience the rest of my life with only you.”

All you could do was just stare at him. “I’m not proposing to you right now, if that’s what it sounds like.” Spencer said while chuckling. “I’m just saying that one day, I want to marry you. One day, I want to do the thing old married couples do with you.”

“Can you say that again?” You asked staring at him in shock.

He looked at you with confusion, “I’m not proposing to you?”

You just laughed and shook your head, “No, no. What you said a minute ago.”

He just nodded his head slowly for a second before turning in the swing to face you. “I am so in love with you.”

All you could do was pull him into a hug and to hold him for a minute. “Is this why you were crying?” You asked laughing a little, pulling back to look at him. He just shook his head yes while looking at you. He looked like he was mentally shitting himself but you realized it was because you had not said anything to him.

“Oh shit, wait, I love you too, you dork.” You said back while giggling. You cupped the side of his face and just brushed your thumb over his cheek for a minute while looking at him.

“God, I am so in love with you Spencer.”